An Understanding
by TheMightyZan
Summary: The usual elf meets elf and falls in love story.
1. A Meeting

"You can't be serious about talking to him."

The words were said on a breathless laugh that had her looking over her shoulder to the speaker. Alistair stood above her, his hands still gripping his sword and shield as if he expected the form before them to leap up in attack at any moment.

She returned her attention to the task, double checking her knots to make sure that they would stay. "I am generally serious about most of my decisions, Alistair."

"He tried to kill us. He shouted, 'Kill the Grey Wardens!' What else could you possibly hope to learn from him?"

She stood and wiped her hands on the short skirt of her armor before turning to look at her friend, a smile playing across her face. "He might have useful information. Might as well take advantage of it." She laid her hand on his arm, rubbing a moment before her smile widened. "Don't worry, lethallin, I will protect you."

She watched his mouth tighten before laughing lightly and dropping her hand to give his a squeeze. Knowing that he would go along with her she turned to their other companions. "Are we ready?"

Morrigan and Leliana both gave small nods, casting amused glances at Alistair as they all arranged themselves in a half circle around their captive. Lyna stared at him a moment, her fingers tapping on the dagger she held in her hand.

Blond hair, lighter then Alistair's, and skin that had been darkened by the sun. She remembered that his eyes were a light brown, and had the stray thought that it was like he had been made entirely by using different shades of gold. She frowned at herself when she realized where her thoughts were, and stuck out a foot to kick him lightly in the side.

After a moment had passed with no response she kicked him again, but harder. Then a few more times for good measure, finally stilling her leg when he began to groan.

He mumbled something under his breath as his eyes opened and took in his surroundings, including the fact that his legs were tied. She thought she saw a smile ghost over his face before he turned his gaze to the group standing over him. He finally focused on herself and Alistair, obviously knowing them to be the Grey Wardens. "I rather thought to wake up dead, or not wake up at all as the case may be. but I see you haven't killed me yet." His voice was accented, a strange flow to his words.

Observant, she thought not without a trace of humor before unhooking her bow and crouching down in front of him so he didn't have to crane his neck up, and to make sure he knew who was in charge. "That could be easily rectified."

"Of that I have no doubt, you are most skilled." She heard the trace of humor in his voice, and raised a brow as he continued. "If you haven't killed me, however, you must have kept me alive for some purpose, yes?"

She rested an elbow on her knee and propped her chin on her fist before answering. "You're very glib for a prisoner." She laid her bow down beside Alistair's feet, imagining the utter look of horror he must be wearing.

He did laugh at this, a deep throaty sound that had her narrowing her eyes. "It is my way, or so I am told." He shifted a bit on the ground, one hand coming up to wipe over his face. "Let's see then. I assume that you kept me alive to ask me some questions, yes? If so, let me save you time and get right to the point. My name is Zevran, Zev to my friends." She briefly thought about stopping him to let him know she didn't really care what his friends called him, but held silent in hopes he would get to something important.

"I am a member of the Antivan Crows, brought here for the sole purpose of slaying any surviving Grey Wardens." He heaved a sigh, his voice filling with remorse as he continued, "Which I have failed at, sadly."

She tapped a finger on her chin, her other hand readjusting it's hold on her dagger. She kept her voice bland as she said, "I'm rather happy you failed."

He laughed again, meeting her gaze directly a smile staying in place. "So would I be, in your shoes. For me, however, it sets a rather poor precedent, doesn't it? Getting captured by a target seems a tad detrimental to one's budding assassin's career."

She heard Alistair make a sound of disgust, and tilted her head to look at him before turning back to the so called assassin in front of them. "To bad for you, then."

He gave a small, sad nod, "Yes, it's true. Too bad for me."

Curiosity got the better of her, and she heard herself asking, "What exactly are the Antivan Crows?" Even as he opened his mouth to reply, she heard Leliana speak up behind her. "I can tell you that."

She held a finger up at Zevran, and stood to turn and look at the Chantry sister, her hands motioning for her to continue.

"They are an order of assassins out of Antiva. Very powerful, and renowned for always getting the job done..." She trailed off, before continuing, "So to speak." She gestured to the elf on the ground, her eyes narrowing. "Someone went to great expense to hire this man." If he is who he says he is. Lyna heard the unspoken words even as she thought them herself.

One day she would get Leliana to tell her exactly who she was and how she knew things, but for now there were more important things.

The man spoke up from behind her, drawing her out of her thoughts. "Quite right. I'm rather surprised you haven't heard much of the crows out here. Back where I come from, we're rather infamous."

She rolled her eyes, causing Morrigan to bite back a laugh. Arrogant man. What did a Dalish elf care for a guild of assassins in some far off city. She turned back to him, her face blank. "Not for being good assassins, I see."

He threw up his hands, wobbling a bit with the movement. "Oh fine. Is that what you Fereldans do? Mock your prisoners. Such cruelty."

She crouched back down, a frown forming as she studied him. "You came all the way from Antiva?" If they were going so far as to hire outside the borders, she worried what might else be coming.

His brows lowered and he looked off past her shoulder, showing a sudden interest in a grouping of rocks. "Not precisely. I was in the neighborhood when the offer came." He focused back on her face before continuing. "The Crows get around, you see."

She glanced up at Alistair, and could see in his face what question he wanted her to ask, even though they both knew the answer. She sighed and looked back at their captive. "Who hired you?"

"A rather taciturn fellow in the capital. Loghain, I think his name was... Yes, that's it."

She felt more then saw Alistair stiffen, and silently willed him to just once not give everything away with body language. "So does that mean you are loyal to him?"

"I have no idea what his issues are with you. The usual I imagine. You threatened his power, yes?" He gave a shrug, and casually glanced up to the others. "Beyond that, no, I'm not loyal to him. I was contracted to perform a service."

She stood and folded her arms over her chest, deciding perhaps he needed to be a bit uncomfortable. "And now that you have failed that service?"

He smiled at her, clearly reading her thoughts as he shifted to look up at her more easily. "Well, that's between Loghain and the Crows, and between the Crows and myself."

"And between you and me?"

"Isn't that what we are establishing now?"

"When were you to see him next?"

He rolled a shrug, and dropped his gaze to the ground; he began idly playing with a blade of grass. "I wasn't. If I had succeeded I would have returned home, and the Crows would have informed your Loghain of the results... If he didn't already know. If I had failed, I would be dead." Another smile, though he did not look back up. "Or I should be, at least as far as the Crows are concerned. No need to see Loghain."

She stared at him in silence, working that over in her mind. She had a fair idea where he was going to be going with this conversation, and how her companions would react. When he tilted a look up at her she cocked her head a bit. "If you had failed?"

"What can I say? I am an eternal optimist. Although I would say the chances of succeeding at this point seem a bit slim, don't they?" He started laughing at that, bright and loud until he noticed the four sets of eyes, all with the same expression, merely staring at him. The laughter died in his throat. "No, I don't suppose you would find that funny, would you."

"How much were you paid?"

"I wasn't paid anything. The Crows, however, were paid quite handsomely. Or so I understand."

Good, if nothing else Loghain was out a large sum of money. As petty as it was, she liked taking any shots at him that she could. She realized that he was still talking and tried to focus again.

"...poor as a Chantry mouse, come to think of it. Being an Antivan Crow isn't for the ambitious, to be perfectly honest."

"Then why are you one?" The question came before she realized she had been thinking it, and she watched a rather self deprecating smile form on his face. "Well, aside from a distinct lack of ambition, I suppose because I wasn't given much of a choice. The Crows bought me young. I was a bargain too, or so I'm led to believe."

She schooled her features as he spoke. It sounded like slavery. Nothing to do with ambition at all.

He waved a hand and readjusted himself, his legs stretching against their ties a moment. "But, don't let my sad story influence you. The Crows aren't so bad. They keep one well supplied. Wine, women, men. Whatever you happen to fancy. Though the whole severance package is garbage, let me tell you. If you were considering joining, I'd really think twice about it."

In other words they keep you complacent, and less likely to go against them, she thought bitterly, ignoring his last attempt at humor. There were days she could hardly stand the world outside her Dalish camp. "Thanks, I'll keep that in mind."

"You seem like a bright girl. I'm sure you have other options." She almost laughed at that. She had no options; she was a Grey Warden, and would be the rest of her life. Perhaps they had some things in common.

She knelt again, her voice dropping, curiosity apparent. "Why are you telling me all this?"

He let out a chuckle, his brow raising a bit. "Why not? I was not paid for my silence. Not that I offered it for sale, precisely."

She didn't believe it for a moment. "Aren't you at least loyal to your employers?" He seemed to examine his hands. "Loyalty is an interesting concept. If you wish to discuss it, and are done interrogating me, we can discuss it further."

Ah, and here it was. "I'm listening. Make it quick."

"Well, here's the thing." His voice took on an oddly businesslike quality. "I failed to kill you, so my life is forfeit. That's how it works. If you don't kill me, then Crows will. The thing is... I like living, and you are obviously the sort to give the Crows pause. So.." He drew the word out, as if he was coming to a whole new idea. "Let me serve you instead."

"No!" The word had come out in a rush from the man to her side. She stood to look at him, his head shaking even before she could say anything. "No, Lyna. No." She didn't reply to him, merely stared at him a moment. This he could be decisive about? This? She narrowed her eyes, silently daring him to say something else; make this decision himself. When it seemed he had nothing else to say she turned back to the assassin.

"Can I expect the same amount of loyalty from you?"

Golden eyes looked between the two of them a few times before landing and staying on her. "I happen to be a very loyal person. Up until the point that someone expects me to die for failing." She sent him the same narrowed look she had previously directed at her friend. She could hear the question in his voice when he continued. "That's not a fault, really, is it?" She heard a snort behind her, and could picture Morrigan laughing. She kept her gaze on Zevran.

"Unless, you're the sort who expects the same thing. In which case I... well, I don't come very well recommended, I suppose." He scooted around a bit until he was more sitting then laying, his hands waving as he talked. "To be completely honest, I wasn't given much of a choice regarding joining the Crows. They bought me on the slave market when I was a child. I believe I have paid my worth back to them, plus tenfold. The only way out, however, is to sign up with someone they can't touch. Even if I did kill you now, they might kill me just on principle for failing the first time. Honestly, I'd rather take my chances with you."

"You mean use us until you have the chance to kill us." Alistair blurted the angry words out, his stance shifting as he folded his arms. Lyna ignored him, his outbursts where not helping anything. As if sensing it would be a mistake to respond, Zevran kept silent.

"Won't they come after you?"

He gave a shrug. "Perhaps. I happen to know their wily ways, however, I can protect myself, as well as you." He seemed to catch himself, and the cough that came from Leliana. "Not that you seem to need much help. And if not, well, it's not like I have many alternatives to start with, is it?"

She finally let out a laugh, and crouched back down, her cheek resting on her hand as she stared at him. "You must think I'm royally stupid." She heard the sound of protest given by Alistair, good he understood the hit. He deserved it.

He sent her an overly flirtatious smile, his head tilted in a way that was obviously suppose to show off the tattoo on the side of his face, and so he could look at her out of the corner of his eyes. "I think you're royally tough to kill, and utterly gorgeous."

When she didn't respond his smile turned friendly. "Not that I think you'll respond to simple flattery, but there are worse things in life then serving the whims of a deadly sex goddess."

She couldn't fault him for lack of trying, and she had to school her features when she heard Alistair muttering again, along with the sigh of annoyance from Morrigan. The witch had always hated such things. "What do you want in return." Nothing ever came for free.

"Well, let's see. Being allowed to live would be nice, and would make me marginally more useful to you. And somewhere down the line, if you should decide that you no longer have need for me, then I go on my way." His voice took on the flirtatious edge again as he said, "Until then, I am yours. Is that fair?"

"Ok, let's put it this way. Why would I want your service?"

"Why? Because I am skilled in many things, from fighting to stealth and picking locks. I could also warn you should the Antivan Crows attempt something more... sophisticated now that my attempts have failed." He looked up to her and waved a hand when she didn't reply, clearly unsure of what she wanted to hear. "I could also stand around and look pretty, if you prefer. Warm your bed? Fend off unwanted suitors?" He glanced at Alistair, "No?"

She risked a look over her shoulder, knowing what Alistair's answer would be, but wanting a gauge on the others. Both of the women were biting back smiles. She turned her attention back when she heard Zevran speaking again.

"So, what shall it be? I'll even shine armor. You won't find a better deal, I promise."

She heaved a sigh and stood. "Very well, I accept your offer," she said lightly as she made her way over to pick up his weapons from where they had fallen a ways off.

"What!" Alistair's voice was raised, pitched higher than normal. "You're taking the assassin with us now? Does that really seem like a good idea?"

She dropped the daggers into her bag and holstered her own. Tossing the bag over her shoulder she stepped to Alistair and laid an hand on his arm, her eyes pleading. "Don't worry about it. We could use him." It was true. They were sadly lacking in allies.

He stared at her a moment, a frown appearing before he gave a shake of his head, and glancing at the others. "Fine...Fine. I see your point. Still, if there was a sign we were desperate, I think it just knocked on the door and said hello." She sent him a bright smile, even though his frown remained, and he moved to the object of the conversation and began to untie his legs.

"A fine plan," Morrigan said, walking up to her, "but I would examine your food and drink far more closely from now one, were I you."

"You think it's a mistake, Morrigan?" she pitched her voice lower than before, so only the human woman could hear her, and was rewarded with a raised brow. "I do not recall saying that."

Leliana, Creators bless her, was already helping the blond elf from the ground. "Welcome, Zevran. I think having an Antivan crow along is a fine plan." Her smile was friendly, her face free of the worry floating off of Alistair, of course, Lyna suspected that Leliana had a hard time hating anyone.

Zevran returned the smile, "Oh? Are you another companion-to-be then? I wasn't aware such loveliness existed amongst adventures, surely." He bowed over her hand with a flourish, and kissed it.

"Or maybe not."

He laughed at her bland reply, and then made his way over to where Lyna stood. He was about a head taller than her, roughly the same height as the human women in the group, though far shorter then Alistair. She was briefly aware that it would be good to have another companion who seemed like they were a normal size.

He sent her a small bow. "I hereby pledge my oath of loyalty to you, until such a time as you choose to release me from it. I'm your man, without reservation. This I swear."

She merely looked at him and then pushed by him to start down the road. She had no need for pledges, things like that could be easily broken. The others fell into step behind her, Zevran falling in at the rear, seemingly unsure of what else to do.

When they made it back to camp it didn't take long to catch Sten, Shale and Oghran up on what had happened. She left most of the telling to Leliana, who seemed perfectly happy to introduce their newest member.

Lyna watched as Alistair made his way into the forest, on the pretence of gathering wood. She knew better; new that he was angry about their latest addition. For all that he outwardly supported it. She dropped her bag on a log and removed the daggers she had placed within. Making her way over to the new elf she held them out to him silently.

She recognized the shock in his gaze as he took them, also the wariness. "You are giving me back my weapons?" At her nod, the wariness increased. "Why?"

"If you are planning on killing me, I doubt you need daggers, and to be fair, I would rather you go ahead and try and get it over with. It would save time and resources we might use on you." She smiled when he started to laugh. "I am willing to take a chance on you, Zevran. Much to the dislike of companions I regard far more highly then I do you. Everyone gets a second chance, right? Please don't make me regret it." When he didn't seem to have a reply to that she turned and went to the fire to start dinner.

Sometime later she heard someone settle behind her. Glancing over her shoulder she gave a nod to Zevran, and noticed that everyone had disappeared saved Shale, in her normal place by the road. They were probably washing up or resting before dinner.

"You are Dalish, yes?" At her nod he settled more comfortably in his seat. "Who does your vallasin represent?"

She blinked at that, and turned to look at him more fully. "You know what vallasin is?" He gave a nod, and smiled at her. "I was always interested in my wilder cousins."

She studied him a moment before replying, unsure of if she even should. He had been the first to ask her about it. "It's to honor Falon'Din."

"A strange god for a beautiful girl to honor." He smiled at her scowl, and she turned back to the stew she was making. "I have my reasons, and they are of no concern to you." When he stayed silent she continued, thinking she could feel his smile on the back of her neck. "I have no need for flattery and interest, Zevran. I may only be seventeen, but my head is not in the clouds, nor am I turned by pretty words and hooded gazes." Hearing someone come into the clearing they both looked up as Alistair made his way to the fire, his arms full of tree limbs. They both stayed quiet until he disappeared into his tent, his eyes still wary.

She stood abruptly and went to rummage in her tent a few moments before returning, and dropping a large bag of armor at his feet. When he sent her a questioning look, she gave him a friendly smile. "Shining armor, remember? I believe you said you could do it." She turned and headed off to find the others, and let them know food was almost ready; his laughter floating behind her.


	2. An Interlude

**I have a very bad habit of not being able to work on one story at a time. Weird as it sounds, I actually work better, and faster if I am working on at least two stories at once. I start on one, and it makes me think of the other, and boom creativity happens! Whether that is good or bad.. well... luckily I never ask. :P**

**This could be seen as either a stand alone or a companion piece to "I Found You", and "Spices and Shoe Leather". They all revolve around the same Warden/Zevran pair.**

**I can definitely say though that this story won't be nearly as long as the first, but much longer then the latter.**

**Why did I wait till chapter two to write up here? No idea. Perhaps I am just weird.**

**Hope everyone enjoys.**

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Lyna watched a few moments as the others around her went about setting up base camp. They had traveled most of the day, and would reach the ferry to the mages' tower by tomorrow evening. She glanced down at the parchment in her hand, the charcoal ticks that represented the days that they had been traveling.

Four days. Three if it hadn't been for the interruption from the assassin that was currently helping Oghren to split wood. So five days to get to the tower and ask for help, and then four days back.

She hoped that Teagan could hold everything together that long.

She worried that she had made the wrong decision about the boy. Perhaps she should have simply killed him, or Isolde. Gotten it over with quickly and seen what she could do about the Arl; not that she had even the first clue of where to start with that. She had wanted to do the right thing though, had wanted to save them all.

Did not want the blood of a child on her hands.

It was easy enough to justify, and having Alistair being so against the alternative had helped to confirm what she told Bann Teagan. She didn't want to let him down; didn't want to let any of them down. The Bann had been kind to her, gracious when others would have looked down their noses at her. She wanted to pay him back.

So lost in her thoughts, she did not hear the footsteps behind her; because of this she nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt a hand clamp on her shoulder. Giving a strangled cry she whirled on the intruder, and stared wide eyed and rasping into Alistair's smiling face.

"Lost in thought?"

She gave a nod, and covered her heart with her hand. "Creators, Alistair, did you have to scare the wits out of me?"

His smile turned into a laugh and his hand slipped away. "Yes." He lifted his gaze to where Oghren and Sten were arguing over the best way to get the wood finished, all the while Zevran calming chopping away. "So when do you think he will turn against us?"

She blew out her breath, her eyes traveling to the group he was staring at. "I don't think he will, at least not unless the Crows show up and welcome him back with open arms." She shrugged, "Maybe not even then."

He was shaking his head even before she had finished talking, looking down at her with narrowed eyes. "Oh he will most definitely betray us. I wish you had not given him back his weapons."

"He can't be left hanging, Alistair. We kept him alive for a reason. I won't have him traveling us, fighting with us, unarmed. We have to show some faith."

"You left him alive, not me. Don't pretend that anyone else made that decision." He looked off again, missing the way her face clouded.

Lifting her foot, she took a moment to think that boots did have their uses then slammed the heel down on his own booted toes. When he yelped and doubled over to grab at the smarting digits she took the advantage and grasped the collar of his chain-mail, forcing him level with her.

"You put me in charge. You said you didn't want to make the decisions. You have been as indecisive as a girl about a coupling, and almost as passive." She pressed her face closer to his, her blue eyes dark with fury that had built up over days. She faintly realized that her voice was growing louder with each word. "I did not ask for this responsibility. I did not ask or want to be put in charge. I am doing it because you did not want to. I didn't even have a choice of becoming a Grey Warden, so spare me the hits at what you consider bad ideas. If you want to make the rules, tell us what we need to be doing, and how to do it, fine. Good. I will be happy to hand you the reigns." She stepped forward, her arm rigid, causing him to stumble back, his face wide and white with what she assumed was astonishment. "However, if you want me to stay in charge then no more jabs. No more questioning what I decide is best to do. You will do as I say, and how I say it. I won't tolerate dissension, Alistair. Not even from you." With those last words she shoved at him, barely sparing a glance to where the others stood, stock still around the camp, before storming away.

She barely made it ten feet into the woods before slamming her fist into a tree. She forced herself to calm down; taking slow breathes as she sorted through the names of the Creators, and each of their stories. She wasn't sure how long she had been standing there before opening her eyes again.

She should not have blown up like that. It wasn't Alistair's fault. Not really, and she would usually invite his input in things. She was just angry. Angry at him, yes, but mostly herself. What did it matter what he thought about anything.

Had she not been telling him, not a week ago that he needed to be more decisive? Yes, but not about this. She had wanted him to be certain about his feeling for her. It galled that he could not make a definitive statement about whether he was attracted to her without asking for her permission, but that he could be so sure about how he felt about Zevran.

She made a strangled sound of disgust and buried her face in her hands, dropping onto the ground beneath a tree.

"You know, the most passionate lovers often fight like cats and dogs. It can be a very good thing. I know from experience."

She glanced up at the voice, her eyes taking a moment to adjust in the gloom before the blob before her became Zevran. He was leaned casually against a tree, turned slightly away from her, his arms folded over his chest.

Giving a muffled laugh she let her hands drop away. "I can assure you that is not the case."

"Ah, well pity for our Warden friend, but good news for me, yes?"

She simply stared at him a moment, his smile friendly under her regard. Finally, she shifted a bit, her arms wrapping around her knees. She wanted to change the subject.

"What does it take to become an assassin?"

If the question threw him, he gave no sign, merely shifted to face her more fully before answering. "Well, the Crows would have you believe that it is an involved process that takes years of training." He paused just a moment before continuing, as if he was trying to remember what to say. "The kind that tests both your resolve and endurance. Survive that process, and maybe... just maybe, you're good enough to start to be considered one of them."

He paused again, this time to settle across from her on the ground. Before continuing he brushed away the hair that had fallen loose into his eyes, and sent her a conspiratory smile. "But, quite frankly the truth is that all it requires is a desire to kill for a living. It's surprising how well one can do in such a field."

She returned the smile, though hers was a bit more mocking. "You do quite well, I'm sure."

"Ah, yes, well. Within the Crows, I did. but it has been something that the Crows have devoted a great deal of time to perfecting." He leaned forward a bit, his hands moving as if to emphasize his words. "An assassin simply specializes in striking from stealth... and in maximizing that first attack to be as lethal as possible. Debilitating your foe, either by poison or by crippling their limbs, makes any follow-up combat you need to engage in that much simpler."

Her smile widened as he spoke. Judging from the look on his face, it was a topic he enjoyed. It was interesting to see him discuss something he took so seriously. Feeling like she should indulge him since it seemed so important, she dropped her head on her knees and settled in to have an actual conversation.

"That sounds like it could be useful."

He gave a nod, his face lit with enjoyment. "See? Getting paid for the art is beside the point. An assassin is more a tactical choice then a lifestyle." He rubbed his chin a moment and then let out a laugh. "Of course, the Crows like to pretend that their abilities are trade secrets, shrouded in shadows and wrapped in a blanket of mystery. So let's just keep this between you and me, shall we?"

She smiled again and gave a nod. "I could probably do that." Sitting in silence a few moments, she finally pushed herself from the ground, and waited as he did the same.

"Thank you."

"Hmm?" He glanced over to her, his brow raised in question.

"For helping me to relax. I appreciate the distraction." Her mind flitted back to an earlier statement, and she stopped to look up at him. "You should know though, I am not going to sleep with you."

"My dear Warden, you should never say never about such things. It only makes the challenge more interesting."

She shook her head. "I am fairly certain about this."

"Ah, fairly certain means you are not completely certain, yes? I can work with that." Turning, he did not wait for her answer before heading back to the clearing.


	3. A Moment

**I have mixed and matched, and added some of my own to the conversations. I just like some lines and responses better then I do others, and they seem to fit better with my Lyna and Zevran. Hope no one hates me for it!**

**I hope you all enjoy!**

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She was staring.

Her gaze had drifted to where the assassin was fighting off to the side, his blond hair whirling around his face, as it came loose from its braids. She knew she was staring, knew that she needed to focus back on the battle, but he was smiling, a grim self satisfied smile, and once he even let out a loud laugh as he appeared behind a blood mage to slit their throat.

He really did enjoy his work, and yes, she still hadn't looked away.

She heard a gruff shout from Oghren which finally shook her out of her thoughts, and had her focusing her attention and bow on where the dwarf was fighting a demon.

Her companions had quickly learned that while she could use daggers to some effect her best work was with her bow, and their fighting had adapted. She would take position off to the side, easily ignored due to her size, and they would move whoever they were fighting into a position that made their backs exposed to her arrows. She had almost missed Oghren's target, and would have completely if he hadn't made a sound.

She bit down on her cheek, a reminder to keep her focus, and sent her arrow flying into the demon, followed shortly by a few more. When the creature was down he sent her a faint salute and turned to his next target.

They made short work of the group, and restarted their trek into the tower. She cast a glance at the mage they had picked up along the way. An older woman who seemed determined to help, which Lyna could not fault.

The others, which included not only Oghren and Zevran, but also Shale, seemed alright with the addition, and the assassin even struck up a conversation with her occasionally as they moved, his smile tilted and sly, and full of the charm that Lyna had come to expect from him.

She had wished that she could bring another ranged fighter with them, but it hadn't been an option. When they had reached the ferry that took them to the tower, only four could fit on the small boat. Besides they hadn't been expecting to have to fight.

She had left Alistair in belief that bringing an ex templar into the tower would only seem in bad taste, and she hadn't trusted Morrigan or Sten to not stir up trouble with their blunt views on the Circle and mages respectively.

Leliana would have been a good addition to the droll golem, and half sauced dwarf, but the fact of the matter was that she had wanted Zevran along.

She tried not to think too closely on that.

They made a short stop about halfway up the tower. Taking a few moments to refresh themselves with potions and water before continuing on. She took the time to settle next to Zevran, trying to appear casual, her fingers dancing lightly over the stamina potion she carried. She tossed it to him when he finally lifted his attention from where he was wiping gore out of the crevice between where the hilt of one of his daggers met the blade. He caught it with a murmur of thanks and tilted his head back to drink it in one go.

"I was wondering. Do you think you could teach me to fight like you? With daggers I mean. I am alright with them, but it wouldn't hurt to be better, especially when we are fighting in tight spaces, and bows are a liability."

He swiped the back of his hand over his mouth and reached to take a pull of water before replying; his brandy gaze curious and a touch amused when he finally met her eyes.

"Right now?"

She scowled, and grabbed at the water skein to take her own drink. Lacing her words with humor she rolled her eyes at him. "Do you think there is time?"

She waved a hand at him before he replied, taking a moment to see the irony in their comfortableness with each only a week after his attempted killing. "Not in the middle of a battle zone no, but maybe at camp when we are settled for the night."

He stared at her for several moments, his gaze hooded. She wished she could read his thoughts. It was easy with the others. Alistair didn't know how to hide his feelings, and Leliana was almost as bad. Shale, Sten, and Morrigan were open in their annoyance with almost everyone, and Oghren was so drunk most of the time that it didn't matter how he felt. Zevran was different. She wondered if it was the assassin training. He glossed everything over with quips and flirting. His eyes always held a glint like he was withholding a secret.

She wondered what it would take to dig past it. If it was even possible.

Finally he let out a soft laugh and pushed himself to stand. "Hmmm. I suppose the Crows are already furious, yes? What harm is another tweak to their nose?"

He offered his hand to her, and pulled her up when she took it. "If you really want to learn, I can show you." His grin widened as if he found it all very amusing. "It will be fun, I will make it fun. I promise."

She returned his smile and moved past him to gather with the others. After a few words they all moved off down the hall.

* * *

By the time they made it back across the lake it had been two days. Two days of fighting, and demons, and the fade, and magic. Her skin still itched from the feel of it, even though she had thoroughly scrubbed after they had saved the head magi. It was a relief to see the others standing at the dock, and watching as the first boat, filled with the mages that would be helping at Redcliff, unloaded it's passengers. She sought out Alistair and felt her face break into a wide smile when she locked eyes with him, his filled with relief. She let him haul her out of the small boat, and took a moment to savor the heat of him before he set her aside and reached in to help the elder mage that had come with them.

Wynne.

She had asked the First Enchanter if she could come with them, and both he and Lyna had emphatically agreed. She had a soothing presence.

She reminded her of Ashalle.

It helped to think they would have such a person in their little group. Someone who had years of wisdom, and did not appear to shrink from speaking her mind. It also didn't hurt that she was proficient in healing magics. If there was one thing they needed, it was a healer.

Lyna made introductions quickly, feeling her cheeks flame when Alistair settled an hand on her back and told Wynne that he was happy for the new addition, and that if Lyna trusted her then he would be happy to do the same.

She stood there a moment, aglow with happiness and tried not to frown when he let his hand drop and move to speak with Oghren.

After hearing Leliana tell Wynne that she would show her where she could camp, Lyna turned to make her way into the nearby tavern.

Settling at the bar she ordered an ale and secretly hoped that Alistair would try to seek her out. Take some initiative after not seeing her for two days.

He didn't, instead she watched as Zevran made his way in, and settled in beside her. She turned to look into her mug while he ordered a drink. They sat in silence for several minutes before he spoke, his accented voice soft. "I figured you would be off spending some alone time with our dear ex templar." The way he said alone was drawn out, an emphasis on the word that caused her to flush and then scowl at him.

"If Alistair wants to see me, he can come and find me." She was tired of being the one to do the chasing. Wasn't that the man's job anyway.

It was how it had worked with Tamlen at least.

He made some sound of agreement and they fell into silence again. Feeling his gaze upon her she finally let out a huffed breathe, and looked back to him. "Zevran."

He raised a brow, his face alight with humor, not even trying to pretend he hadn't been staring at her. "Hmm?"

"Do you stare at everyone like that?"

He let out a short laugh and shook his head. "No, not everyone." He leaned in, his voice pitching down as if he were imparting a secret. "But a beautiful woman such as yourself? Why not? I am sure you draw many stares; from men and even other women." His head canted to the side slightly. "Does this bother you?"

She could play his game, and was silently grateful that he was drawing her from her dark thoughts. She gave a casual shrug of her shoulder and kept her expression bland. "Not really, no."

A smile tilted at the corner of his mouth, and he leaned back to take another drink of his ale. "But you would prefer I desisted, perhaps? It would be difficult, traveling as we do in close proximity, but I am nothing if not a gentleman."

She snorted at that, and then let out a laugh at his expression. She turned to face him more fully as she sent him her most charming smile. Oh yes, she could play this game. "A gentleman? Too bad."

"Oh? Now this is intriguing. I shall have to redouble my efforts immediately." He leaned in again. "There was a young elven dancer in Antivan City once, and I believe I actually managed to stare off all seven of her skirts. It's a trick worth retrying."

She laughed again and gave into the impulse to lean forward and give him a smacking kiss on the cheek. They grinned at each other a few moments before she finally spoke again. "Can I ask you a question?"

He leaned back, still amused, and finished his drink, signaling for another. "Well now. This should be good." He waved a hand at her. "Go ahead."

She took a moment to form what she wanted to ask. She watched him sip his drink, his gaze having moved to the bar maid at the other end of the tavern. His hair was neatly tied back, a contrast to the last few days of disorder they had all been in. She thought back to how he had looked; hair disheveled, bright locks sticking to his sweat soaked forehead and cheeks. She thought she preferred that version of him. It seemed more real.

"Why did you want to leave the crows, exactly?"

"Well now." His attention returned to her, his eyes wide in surprise. "I imagine that's a very fair question. Being an assassin, after all, is a living at least as far as such things go." He rolled a shrug, and set down his mug. "I was simply never given a choice to choose another way. So if the opportunity presents itself, why should I not seize upon it?"

She couldn't help smiling at the answer, and waving her hand in a gesture for him to elaborate. She wanted to know more about him. Wanted to know if there was more than simply being an assassin. "But what would you rather do?"

He started to reply then stopped himself, his eyes falling to stare into his mug a few moments. "You know, now that you mention it, I am not entirely certain."

He tilted his mug and watched the ale inside slosh to the side. When he spoke again, his voice had taken on a softer edge. "I was but a boy of seven when I was purchased." A smile ghosted at his lips. "For three sovereign, I'm told. Which is a good price, considering I was all ribs and bones and didn't know the pommel of a dagger from the pointy end. The Crows buy all their assassins that way. Buy them young, raise them to know nothing else but murder. If you do poorly in your training you die."

She thought briefly on her own childhood. While she had not had her parents, she had had Ashalle and Tamlen, and the rest of the clan. She was loved and taken care of, and she had never wanted for anything that she needed.

Her heart ached for the boy he had been.

"That sounds awful."

His half smile was still in place, and he sent her a brief glance. "Oh, I don't know about that. The Crows that are actually good enough to survive come to enjoy some of the benefits."

He shifted his gaze back to her, his smile widening a bit as her turned his body more fully in her direction. "In Antiva, being a Crow gets you respect. It gets you women... and men, or whatever you might fancy."

She couldn't help but wonder what else there was to fancy besides women and men, but decided she didn't actually want to know; instead focusing back on what he was saying.

"But that does mean doing what is expected of you, always. And it means being expendable." His gaze dropped again, and he seemed to take a deeper breath before continuing. "It's a cage, if a gilded cage. Pretty, but confining."

She wanted him smiling again, and so she tapped a finger to his arm, and sent him an amused look. "So what is it you fancy, exactly?"

Her question had the intended effect, and he returned her amusement. "Oh, I fancy many things.. I fancy things that are beautiful, and things that are strong, I fancy things that are dangerous and exciting." He leaned a bit towards her, his voice dropping back to a whisper, his head tilted till it almost touched hers. "Would you be offended if I said that I fancied you?"

She shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips. "No, but you needn't bother."

He placed a hand over his heart, and let out a long exaggerated sigh; his eyes closing as if he was in pain. "Oh, and I was hoping to get to work on my flirting."

She continued to smile and punched him lightly on the arm. It caused him to open his eyes, his face relaxed. "Ah well, I don't think I will give up just yet, my dear lady. As for what I'll do in the future...presuming that there is one... I truly can't imagine." He rolled a shrug and waited as she ordered another drink. "It might be interesting to go into business for myself for a change. Far away from Antiva, of course." He sent her a warm smile, his arm coming to rest on the bar beside him. "For now, naturally, I go where you go."

She knew she did not need to fake the warmth in her voice when she replied. "I'm happy to have you along."

She didn't miss the look of surprise he sent her, nor how quickly it was covered with a sharp laugh. "And here I am, happy to be had. Isn't it wonderful how things work out that way?" He patted her bare knee and hopped from his stool. "Come now, enough chit chat. Talking about the Crows summons them, you know. Any Antivan fishwife could tell you that."

He waited as she finished the rest of her drink in a long chug, then tossed a few coins on the bar before turning to follow her to the door. She paused just as her hand landed on the handle and she glanced back at him. "I'm still not going to sleep with you."

He made a tsking sound, his voice both laughing and husky at the same time. "So you keep saying. Are you still trying to convince me, or are you now simply trying to convince yourself?"

Strangely enough she didn't seem to have an answer for that, so she simply pushed the door open and lead him out into the sunshine.


	4. A Kiss

**It's so sweet I can hardly stand it. ~.~  
**

* * *

Trees are just as hard as they look.

The breath left her lungs in a rush as she stumbled into the solid column of wood; the rough bark scratching and tearing at her exposed skin. She took a gulping breath and had just enough time to raise her arm, the steel of her dagger clanging against the bruising force that bared down on it. Sweat blinded her eyes as she shot out with her other hand, the pommel barely grasped in her slick grip, and she felt that the jab would be off even as she turned away from the sharp edge angled toward her own stomach.

Breaking away, she threw her daggers down, and raised her hands in surrender. "I yield," she said on a rasp, her throat burning with the effort. "Creators, Zevran, if I didn't know better I would think you were still trying to kill me."

She was trying, and failing to wipe the sweat from her eyes; only managing in smearing the burning salt water. She felt a hand on her shoulder and then a soft cloth brush over her face. It gently soaked away the sweat, and when she could open her eyes again, she was staring into an amused face. "Luckily I am not, yes? You are off today," he said with a chuckle, his hand continuing its work. She let her eyes drift back shut, enjoying the sensation; left to right, in a waving pattern. Belatedly she realized he was tracing her tattoo.

They had been sparring like this every night for the last three weeks. True to his word, Zevran had given her an hour at camp each night so she could work on her skills with daggers. He had also be speaking the truth when he said he would make it fun, well, at least most of the time.

He teased her, pushed her, made her learn to use her daggers in new ways, and when she faltered with it he showed her how to do it properly. He was, much to her surprise, a good teacher, and she found herself looking forward to the time after everyone had eaten and the two of them could slip off together to fight.

Her favorite though, was after the fighting, in the quiet of the woods or field they had been using; they sometimes sat for hours, talking late into the night about all different manner of things.

She remembered when he had told her about Antiva City, the pride and love obvious in his voice. She had laughed and said she was not surprised when he had told her that leather was the smell he missed most, and she had laughed harder when he had described the women. She had asked if they were really all such copies of each other, and he had agreed, stating that it didn't matter since they were beautiful copies.

Secretly she had thought that it sounded awful, all that cramped space, and people tumbling over each other. Smells, and sand, and no trees to shield you from the harsher rays of the sun. She didn't say this however, and simply said she would love to see it someday because he obviously thought so much of it.

She wasn't sure why she cared, she wasn't even sure when they had taken to spending so much time together, talking, flirting, making each other laugh. Not just after sparring, but throughout the day itself. She would catch herself seeking him out when they had stopped for a break, or when she wanted to point out something interesting.

She knew she used to do it with Alistair, but that was happening less and less, the two of them falling more into a friendship then what they had been dancing around before.

The casual touching had definitely stopped, though by his or her own accord she wasn't sure.

They had been to Denerim and back in an effort to help heal the Arl of Redcliff, and now they made their way to the mountains in the west, and a city called Haven, hot on the trail of a scholar that they hoped would help them to find the sacred ashes of Andraste, the humans' prophetess.

The air felt cooler already, and Lyna hoped to reach the base of the mountains in the distance by the next day.

Which brought her back to the present, and the fact that she could no longer feel Zevran wiping at her face. She could, however, still feel his hand on her shoulder, and she opened her eyes to see that he was still staring at her, though the humor had left his face.

His gaze was hot, the dark brown orbs flitting over her as if he wasn't sure what he was going to do. His free hand dropped the cloth by their side and came up so that a single finger lightly trailed along the tattoos he had just wiped down. Left to right from the corner of her eyebrow, over her forehead, and under her eye to end at the underside of her cheekbone. From the corner of both sides of her mouth and out to her jaw line. From her bottom lip to the base of her neck.

She watched him, spellbound, her throat working under the tickle of his touch, the urge to swallow overwhelming. She should tell him to stop, brush his hand away, tease him for trying to seduce her.

She couldn't.

She watched as his hand finally came to rest on the line of her jaw, giving enough pressure to tilt her head up a bit more. Watched as his head descended to hers, her eyes falling shut before she even had time to think about it.

His lips brushed hers once, then twice, the dry velvet of them soft against her own. When she made no attempt to push him away they settled more fully. His hand at her shoulder slid down her arm, and around her waist, pulling her closer to him as his mouth settled more comfortably, his lips rubbing in a pleasing caress that had her sighing.

Hearing the noise he smiled against her and caught her bottom lip between his teeth. When her mouth opened on a gasp, he took the opportunity to take the kiss deeper.

It was like they were at war, their tongues dancing over and against each other, his hand sliding from her jaw and into her hair to pull it from its bindings and grip it in his fist. Her own hands moved up and over his shoulders, her fingers lightly dancing over his neck.

She wasn't sure how long then stood wrapped in each other. Bodies pressed flush, armor creaking, hands moving and caressing, mouths meeting and parting, all she knew was that when he pulled from her slowly, his forehead coming to rest against her own, she wasn't sure she would ever catch her breath.

They stood together a long moment before he finally released her and took a step back, his eye bright with desire. "We should probably head back before they send out a search party," he said, his voice rough. She gave a single nod, words tangling on her tongue before turning to pick up her fallen weapons.

They didn't say anything to each other as they made their way back to the camp, though he had laced her fingers through his own, and kept them locked together as they walked. Just outside of the camp circle he drew her to a stop, his eyes curious, and a smile tilting his lips. "Never sleeping with me seems a bit out of character now, no?" She felt the blush and started to reply when they heard someone call her name.

Dropping Zevren's hand, she turned and offered a warm smile and greeting to where Alistair stood at the edge of camp. Ignoring the raised brow she saw from her fellow elf, she made her way into camp, letting Alistair sweep her into a conversation about what they would do once they reached Haven.


	5. A Gift

**Super short, but I removed it from the other chapter that it was originally part of. Seemed to work better on its own.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

She couldn't wait to give him the boots. Couldn't wait to see if he liked them half as much as she hoped he would. She supposed she should be excited about finding the ashes, and helping the Brother to accomplish his work, but she could only think about the boots that bumped around in her pack.

They had spend 3 days in the harsh mountains in and around Haven, and the darker caves above it. She was glad to be in fresh air again. Glad to be away from that accursed place.

She, along with Alistair, Leliana, Wynne, and Genitivi, had stumbled back into camp just as the sun was setting. The large fire created a circle of warmth, and she was sure that she heard more than her own sigh of pleasure. They had been cold too long.

She listened with half an ear as Leliana and Alistair burst into excited conversation with the others, describing what had befallen them. Setting her pack to the side of her tent she smiled to herself to hear the merchant that had been traveling with them ask questions.

She made her way to the fire, sitting as close as possible to the scorching flames; as Leliana described their fight with the dragon outside of the shrine; agreeing that it was lucky they had Wynne with them, else they may not have survived.

"But, that was not the best part," Leliana continued, her voice bright with excitement. "There were trials. We had to prove ourselves worthy to view Andraste's ashes."

"Prove how?" This from a young mage that had accompanied them from the Circle.

"First there was a guardian at the door. He asked us all question, I suppose to prove our worth and sincerity. He asked Alistair about Duncan, and me about my vision, and Lyna about another elf that passed; though Wynne would have none of it." She sent a smile to the elder mage, her eyes filled with admiration.

Lyna drifted back out of the conversation as Leliana began to describe what had happened once they had gotten into the temple. She remembered it well on her own.

She had pushed through the door to find Tamlen standing in wait.

Tamlen.

It had taken everything she had not to run to him, yell his name, throw her arms around his neck.

No, she had to check herself because she knew. _Knew_. That it wasn't him, not her's at any rate.

The voice he had spoken with had been so achingly familiar though, even as it was booming and disjointed, and his hair had gleamed in the torch light.

He had told her to stop blaming herself for his death, that she could not live in regret. She had wanted to believe him, but she could not stop seeing him as he had been. Happy. Alive. Wrapping strong arms around her when she ran at him, laughter in his voice. "_Felas_, Lyna! Afraid I would hunt the Shemlen without you, _emm'asha_? Never."

She was pulled from her thoughts by a presence settling next to her. She glanced to her side, and upon seeing Zevran, she forced a smile. "Did you miss me?"

"Of course, my dear Warden. No one else will let me stare at them luridly. I tried once with Morrigan, but she would not rise to the bait."

She huffed out a laugh, her gaze returning to the fire. "Is that what I do? Rise to the bait? I suppose I will have to start ignoring you then."

"I hope not, _cariño_. Unless you can convince Wynne to finally let me have my way with her beautiful bosom," he said with a wistful look towards the mage.

She laughed, as she knew he wanted, and stood to go to her bag and fish out the boots and then resettling next to him. His gaze was curious when he finally spoke again. "What's that?"

"A present."

She held the boots out to him, and watched the confusion turn to pleasure. He reached out to pull the boots to him, a grin splitting his face. "That smell... This is Antivan leather, isn't it? I would know that smell anywhere!"

The look he sent her couldn't have been more bright, his hands stroking over the boots in awe. "I don't know how you found it, but thank you."

She thought briefly about telling him she had picked a lock on a chest in a shop, after she had shot an arrow through the owner's heart, but decided against it. While he would appreciate the story, she rather doubted that she would enjoy the retelling.

Instead she waved an impatient hand, her smile matching his own. "What are you waiting for? Try them on."

He shook his head lightly, his head bending back down to the boots. "But I'm not finished admiring them yet! Can you smell that?" He lifted a boot to his nose, inhaling deeply, before saying, "Like rotten flesh. Just like back in Antiva City."

She decided a gag would probably not be appreciated, and kept silent.

Zevran didn't appear to notice. Reaching down, he began to unstrap the boots he was wearing. "Now if only you could find me a prostitute or two, a bowl of fish chowder, and a corrupt politician. I'd really feel like I was home." He punctuated his words with a throaty laugh that had some of the rest of the group sending them curious glances that Lyna resolutely ignored.

He slid the new boots on, beaming down at his feet. "And they fit as well. Marvelous!"

He leaned over to place a smacking kiss against her lips. Tossing out another thanks, he stood and made his way out of camp, eager to try them out.

* * *

_Felas_ - slow

_emm'asha_ - my girl

_cariño_ - sweetheart


	6. A Decision

**New chapter. Sorry about the longer break, between the end of school, and Dragon Con, I have been super busy.**

**I know this conversation usually comes after they sleep together, but I figured it would be something that should be talked about before our elves got jiggy with it between the sheets. Especially with his whole being honest thing, and her recent love infatuation with Alistair.  
**

**Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

"Can you reach him, Sten? Can you cut him down?" Her voice was soft, a bit desperate as she took in the scene before her. The human king, strung up in a crude display of offering. The pits of rot beginning to form on the pale, blue tinted skin. They had passed him once already in their fighting, and now that the threats were gone, the armor they had been searching for recovered, they had returned to show honor to the fallen king. She forced herself to watch as Sten moved forward, his tall form reaching and cutting, Oghren and Zevran close behind to help lower the ravished figure to the ground where it lay in a pitiful heap.

Looking away, she murmured a thanks as she searched out Alistair. He stood off to the side, his eyes closed, and his face carefully blank. She wondered, briefly, if he was going to be sick. Leaving the others in the group to handle the body, Leliana taking charge in how it needed to be covered and where they could lay it to rest, she moved to where her fellow Grey Warden stood.

"Lethallin," she said quietly, her arm wrapping around his, as she laid her head to rest against him. She felt him shudder and risked a glance up to see over bright eyes staring down at her. "It shouldn't bother me, right? I mean I didn't even really know him."

"He was your king, and your brother. It doesn't matter what relationship you had, it is natural to be upset." She linked their fingers, and led him to a nearby tree where they waited until the others were ready for them. Standing over the simply marked grave she offered up a rare prayer to the humans' Maker, half listening as Leliana said the rights.

The whole group was somber on the return to camp. They had taken a detour upon leaving Haven to return to the battlefield of Ostagar. The trip had been born out of them running into one of the guards to the king, stabbed and left to die on the road. He had told them that the king's father's armor had been left in camp, and they had decided to retrieve it.

They had found it and more.

If they had been hoping for closure, she rather doubted anyone had found it. At least they had been able to honor the fallen king, and perhaps Sten was able to get more information on the Blight to pass back to his Arishok. The only other things that were found were death, and wretchedness.

She stayed close to Alistair for the next several days of travel, sharing her warm as they all huddled around the fire, and talking to him of all manners of things that had little consequence. It had taken almost two days of small jokes, and friendly chatter to make him smile, and almost the entire rest of the way back to Redcliff for him to show signs of returning to himself.

She wondered if he had simply lost too much. Wondered if he would ever pull himself back.

She reminded him several times that the Arl was not dead just yet, and that they had the ashes to help him. She hoped she was right. She also wished, not a few times, that he would come to stand on his brokenness, as they were all learning to do.

They had all lost much.

* * *

They were staying the night in the Arl's Keep, the ashes having brought him back to his senses, if not fully to his health. Wynne had told them that he was healing, but simply needed some restorative rest after all the fighting his spirit had done. They agreed to give him a few days before piling their growing concerns on his weakened shoulders.

She found herself on the roof, the winter air biting at her face as she sat wrapped in blankets beside an equally bundled Morrigan. The witch watched her from the corner of her eye, and she pretended not to notice. "I wanted to thank you again, Warden. For what you did about my mother."

Lyna merely gave a shrug, not wanting to talk about such things. Not wanting to let slip that she had let Flemmith go; a return of the boon for Alistair's and her life. "I did nothing, Morrigan. You should not thank me."

Close enough to the truth.

"I wanted to anyway. I have never had anyone try to help me before...I appreciate it."

Lyna nodded once and tried to ignore the direct gaze that Morrigan leveled on her a few moments later. "I do have a question, and a fair one I think since I answer so many of yours."

Lyna did focus on the human at that, her lips tilting up at the sides, and her gaze turning curious. "A question? From you? I cannot even begin to imagine what you are curious about."

"I would like to know if you have decided to take up a relationship with Alistair after all."

Silence.

She wasn't sure how to reply to that. She had wanted one, not even that long ago, but now? No. She did not think she did. She had someone else altogether in mind.

Her voice was halted, and a bit stuttered as she stumbled over her reply. "A relationship with Alistair? No, not that I know of. Why do you ask?"

Morrigan's gaze never moved from her face, though it did become a bit more attentive. "'Tis an easy thing to assume when you are spending all your time with him. I had thought that you had set your sight from him to the assassin, but lately." She rolled a shrug.

"I am merely being a friend, Morrigan. He has needed one."

"He needs you naked in the bed with him." It was said on a laugh, and the witch turned to look into the distance. "I would not think to inform you on how to be friends to someone, as I obviously lack the social experience for it. However, I would point out that a certain elf has a way of staring at the two of you, all snuggled together as you usually are, with a certain... uncertainty."

They sat quietly for a long time after that, both with their own thoughts, and only the sound the rush of the wind around them. Finally, Morrigan shifted and stood, her blankets falling around her, catching on the tile of the roof. She muttered something about going through her mother's grimoire again and disappeared through a nearby window.

Just as Lyna was deciding that she was also ready for somewhere warm a shadow fell upon her. She glanced up into brandy colored eyes surrounded by a swirl of gold as the wind rioted through loose hair. She watched him as he settled into the circle of Morrigan's blankets and pulled them around himself.

They hadn't been alone in almost two weeks. Between Alistair, and Leliana's sudden interest in sharing the dagger lessons, they hadn't had a moment to themselves. Even her dog, usually content to sleep when he wasn't helping her to hunt, had taken a sudden interest in staying near her, letting out a low growl at almost anyone who came near.

They were both quiet, as if neither knew where to start a conversation, and at least on her end it was true. He finally got the blankets situated and looked over to her, his face carefully blank.

It made her want to kiss him.

"I know that you and Alistair... " He stopped, as if rethinking what he was going to say, then started again. "You and Alistair are quite close, are you not? I am curious as to the nature of your relationship. I know there was a time... but I had thought, perhaps..." He trailed off, his face turning away so she was looking at his profile.

"It's not what you think." She couldn't think to lie to him, or joke. It wasn't in her to do so about such things.

She saw the side of his mouth tip up, and thought she heard a short, quiet laugh. "Isn't it? I've watched you and he together. I know a complication when it rears its head and threatens to bite." He looked back at her then, his face still carrying the smile. "Flirting, a few kisses. You and I have had our fun, but if this thing between you and Alistair is leading somewhere, I will happily step aside. Complication avoided. Everyone's the happier, yes?"

"But, I don't want you to step aside."

She wasn't a hundred percent sure where that had come from. Hadn't even known it was true until the words left her.

He laughed again.

"And I have no burning need to do so, but this is not so simple a matter."

It was. In fact she couldn't see anything complicated about it.

Before she could get the words out he held up a hand, silencing her. "I make no claims on you, nor would I dream of doing such. You are free to pursue your fancies as you desire, and I would have it no other way. I suspect Alistair, however, would not feel the same way. If there is to be something between you and I, to string him along would only hurt him deeply. Surely you know this to be true."

"I'm not stringing him along. I have been helping him through a rough time. I have been his friend. Why does that have to mean that I want something more from him?"

She knew she sounded defensive. She couldn't help it. The truth was she had wanted that. Not even that long ago. Had she not told him that she would let him know how she felt as soon as he knew what his own feelings were? Zevran just stared at her, a brow raised, and his expression amused.

It made her scowl before huffing out a breath and ducking her head into the folds of her blanket, her gaze sliding away from his.

She heard him chuckle, and she hated him a little for it.

"And what would you have me do then? I am many things, Warden. A murderer, a thief, a lover...but I am no cheat. If whatever is between us can't be honest, let it not be at all."

She kept her face buried. Honest. If they were being honest then she would need to accept him as he was. Would need to accept that any relationship between them would not be the same type that she might have with Alistair. Would definitely not be the same as the one she had been planning with Tamlen.

Could she accept knowing he might never want only her? Might never want to settle down? Might never accept an actual relationship? The type that she had always thought she wanted. The type that she still wanted if she thought about it enough.

Might never love her.

Was it worth it?

She wasn't even sure why she was attracted to him. He was crude, and overly flirty, and too smooth, and good at lying. Everything she should dislike in a man, and yet, she could feel the warmth of him at her side, could picture his smile, a bit to sly, and dancing with humor. She could remember ever single touch and kiss.

Besides, it was only a little crazy to believe he could possible change his mind about what he wanted them to be.

She let her breath shudder out and peeked up to see him still watching her, his expression unchanged.

First thing first.

She pushed out of her blankets and pulled at his until there was a slight opening. After a moment's hesitation he helped her to settle onto his lap, and rewrapped them both. She reached up to toy with his hair, unused to seeing it tumble around his face, and drawing out the moment.

"I want you. No question." She felt ridiculous saying it out loud, and at his bright grin she blushed and shoved her face into his neck.

"And glad I am to hear it."

She felt one of his hands come up to her neck and knead a moment before slipping into her hair and untying the leather strap. When she felt her hair brush over her cheeks she pulled back to look at him.

"You will need to be the one to tell Alistair, however."

"If I feel I need to I will." It was the only concession she could give on the topic, because she still didn't think it was an issue. Luckily he seemed to accept it.

"Now, shall we move on to more pleasant topics? How about poetry, mm?"

She merely smiled and leaned in to kiss him, her lips eager against his own, if not overly experienced.

She let him take control and take them both deeper for several minutes before they came up breathless.

"So poetry another time? I have many that I believe you will enjoy."

She simply kissed him again.

It lasted a long time. Kissing, and joking, and staying wrapped in the warmth of each other until they heard Leliana calling for them through the open window.


	7. A Return

**I had this huge super long chapter that I decided to split up. Otherwise it was starting to get kind of crazy.**

**Hope you all are having a great week, and enjoy!**

* * *

They left the city of Redcliffe, and the Arl with it. She was angry. Angry at the Arl, angry at herself, and angry at Alistair for being who he was, and making things harder.

The Arl wanted her to back Alistair as king. Wanted her to talk him into letting himself be put on the throne.

She was angry that she was the one who had to figure it out. It was like none of the shemlen knew how to handle their own problems. Save the child, save the Arl. Talk Alistair into becoming king.

She hated being in charge, hated making the decisions. Hated that no one else would step up.

It made her miss her clan more then she had in months. At least there everyone made decisions together. Weighed the options. Didn't simply give an opinion then tell one person to figure it out.

It left a bad taste in her mouth, and every time she tried to talk to Alistair about it, the taste got worse. He didn't care. Didn't care if it was or wasn't the best plan. didn't want to talk about it. Though she supposed that just confirmed he would make a terrible king.

No. She corrected herself. Not terrible. Simply ill-equipped. He would get handed a problem, and stumble and trip his way into war before he knew what was happening.

She understood where the Arl was coming from. Understood why he wanted what he wanted, but she simply did not know how to give it to him.

She tried to put it out of her mind, focus on the current task, which was finding the Dalish and talking them into upholding their treaty. She could do that.

Creators she wanted to do that. Wanted to see her people, if not her clan. Wanted to have reason to stay out of towns, away from humans, away from the noise; at least for a little while. Maybe then she could actually come up with some idea of what to do. She could picture the clearing they would be staying in. The aravels arranged in a loose circle around the edges, the halla off to the side. There would be a great fire where a _hahren_ would sit and teach the children the story of their people, and the hunters would rest after a long day in the wilds. She could hear the laughter, feel the warmth, as if she was there herself.

* * *

_"You should have seen her, Fenarel, arrow straight into its eye. Never even a waiver of her hand. " Tamlen let out a bright laugh and thumped her on the back. "She'll be out hunting all of us soon." Lyna smiled at the praise, her cheeks heating even as she ducked her head, and mumbled out a reply._

_"Tamlen, hush. I am not that good."_

_"Ah let him gloat, Lyna," Fenarel laughed out. "He's been excited about taking you out on your first hunt all month. He has a right to be proud of the results."_

_Lyna merely nodded, her blush deepening._

_"Just wait," This time Tamlen addressed everyone perched around the fire. "I say she will become a full hunter faster than any of us. She probably could have done it on her own today if she had wanted to." He glanced down at her as he said the last part, his smile widening. There was a general laugh from everyone and he settled back onto the log beside her. He leaned in slightly, his voice pitched down. "Youngest hunter in the clan. Don't you like the sound of it?" She made a face at that before rolling her eyes. "You like the sound of it."_

_He sent her a wink, and bumped his shoulder into hers good-naturedly. "Such an over achiever, emm'asha. Well how about this. The sooner you are a full hunter the sooner you will be considered an adult, and the sooner you can be joined."_

_"Well since you're planning all this for me did you have someone in mind?"_

_He merely smiled at her for a few moments, his arm touching hers lightly._

_"Maybe."_

* * *

It made her smile to think about. The camaraderie. The closeness. The routine.

"The forest air seems to agree with you, my dear Warden."

She shifted her thoughts and glanced over to Zevran. "Hmm, I guess it does."

She glanced over her shoulder to where the others followed behind them. The group was growing more each day it seemed, gathering mages and merchants and soldiers. Luckily, she had convinced most of them to stay near the road, knowing that a large crowd would only scare the clan off. She had brought only her own companions with her, and hoped even that wasn't too much. She knew nothing of this clan, or how they reacted to other races.

"Are we in danger of losing you back to your roots?"

"Would you miss me?" She grinned at him and shook her head. "No, I have a duty to my new clan. I won't abandon anyone now. Besides I doubt I could talk you into staying with me, and I would miss you."

He returned the smile, and gave a shake of his head. "No, and you would be very hard to kiss so far away."

She laughed at the thought, remembering his story about running away to join the Dalish in his youth. Looking at him again she again had the thought that he would make a terrible Dalish elf, and was unsurprised he hadn't enjoyed it.

She started to reply when there was a crunch from up ahead. Focusing in front of her she hoped no one thought they needed to brandish any weapons.

A group of Dalish hunters seemed to materialize in front of them. A quick survey showed at least five, though she knew that more lurked out of site. The leader was a woman, blonde haired, with the heavy vallaslin of Andruil covering her face. Lyna made a point to step out in front of the others, her face carefully blank. After a cursory survey of the group the woman refocused on her, and a friendly, if somewhat polite smile formed.

"_Andaran atish'an_ my friend. You have come a long way. I give you the welcome of our clan."

Lyna returned the smile, her hands folding behind her back as she watched the woman look over the group again, her gaze turning curious. "These are curious companions that you have. Might I ask the purpose of your visit?"

Lyna let her smile warm, and gave a slight nod of greeting. "I wish I could explain in full, but there is much that needs to be done. I have come on behalf of the Grey Wardens, sister."

"The Grey Wardens? You-You have joined their ranks?" The other elf blinked a few times, seeming to miss the almost apologetic shrug Lyna gave her. "How unusual," she said, almost conversationally.

They merely stared at each other a few moments, until Oghren shifted uncomfortably behind her.

"Excuse my surprise. I'll take you to the Keeper right away."

"Thank you, sister."

She shared a glance with Alistair when he appeared by her shoulder, then started off after the hunters.


	8. A Proposition

Werewolves. The Keeper, Zathrian, had agreed to help with the Blight, if they helped him with the werewolves that had attacked their clan. She had readily agreed, taking Morrigan, Wynne, and Sten with her into the forest to hunt down the attackers, figuring she would need the sheer force of the Qun, and Morrigan in her shape shifted forms, and the heals of the older mage. She also remembered the promise she had made to the woman, and knew it was their only chance to find her old apprentice once they learned he still lived.

What they had found, when they finally made it through the labyrinth of a forest and to the werewolves' lair, had not been anything like they were assuming. The Lady of the Forest had lead the werewolves to attack the clan, but Lyna could not fault them the reason. She tried to imagine what it would be like to not only be cursed, but to be cursed because of the mistakes of your ancestors. Mistakes you had not even made yourself. She was also disgusted with the Keeper. How could he do such a thing? How great was his hate that he would not only do such a thing to shemlen, but also to his own brothers and sisters?

They were the last of the elvhan, they were suppose to stand together.

After fighting against him, and finally getting him to admit his misdeeds, she felt only emptiness. She never thought she would stand against one of her own. The fact that he had given his own life, instead of making her make good her threat of gutting him herself, was only a small consolation in a horrible situation.

The group had been subdued upon their return, and her talk with Zathrian's first, where the woman, Lanaya, had assured her she understood what had happened, and blamed no one, did little to lighten their mood.

The whole group, reunited, had sat at the large fire in the camp until well into the night, listening quietly to Sarel, the story teller, share stories of Dalish history. Finally, he had looked to her, the anger that he had had earlier no longer there. "Would you care to share a story of your own, sister?"

She had stared into the fire a long moment before giving a shake of her head and getting to her feet. She did not want to tell stories, not when she had seen what was supposed to be the best, and most honorable of any clan fall so far. Instead she had wiped a hand on her skirt and turned to make her way out of the ring of light the fire cast, her voice soft as she offered only one thing. "We do not forget."

The next day they had packed quickly and set back out for the main road, and the rest of the people they had left there. She stopped in to the elves only long enough to give a respectful goodbye to Lanaya, remembering that she liked her well enough, and that not all could be judged by the actions of a few.

She felt lighter when they stepped into the main road, having picked up the people that continued to trail behind them, proof of the army they were amassing. She flicked a glance to the newly acquired Dalish emissary, and then endeavored not to think of him again.

She let Oghren amuse her with his drunken antics, and Leliana regale her with fantastical stories, and by the time they had stopped to camp for the night, she felt easier with her thoughts, and even told a few stories of her own.

She half heartedly searched out Zevran, but he had seemed to disappear the moment they had made camp, though to be fair he had been more subdued since she had handed him the gloves she had found. Dalish made, and embroidered like his mother's, though clearly made for a man. He had smiled and kissed her lightly in thanks before moving off to settle on a log, his face serious in the firelight.

Alistair waved her over, and she settled in to help him clean his sword and shield, the two working in silence as they watched Morrigan go about making food. Finally he turned a worried gaze to her, his cheek twitching as if he was biting the inside of it. "Are you alright." She smiled at him and offered a nod before setting down the shield and looking at him more fully. She made a point to make her voice strong, the tone light when she replied. "Of course. You know me, lethallin, I don't let anything get to me."

"That's a lie and we both know it." The blunt response made her smile kick up another notch, and become more genuine. "Be that as it may, I will be fine. Just reevaluating things."

He set the whetstone he was using down and looked her over. "I imagine the Dalish are just like humans. There are good ones and bad ones, and sometimes we don't know which are which until it's too late." She knew he was thinking of Loghain, and reached over to squeeze his hand, causing him to tilt a smile at her. "It's hard learning it though."

"Yes, it is." She settled back again, and they worked in silence a while, the camp bustling around them.

As she made her way to her tent for the night, Shale as ever on watch, she finally saw Zevran again. He was leaned against the post of her tent, his armor gone, and his hair loose. She noted that the sleeves of the tunic he wore were rolled up, and his feet were bare. She made her way over, her head tilting slightly in question even as she offered him a friendly smile. "Can I help you with something?"

He made a tsking noise, and stepped forward to run a hand down her arm in a soothing caress. "You look tired, my dear. It is all this constant walking and fighting. I think I know what you need." His voice had a silky edge to it that caused her to narrow her eyes in confusion. Her reply was halted, unsure of the answer he was looking for. "A good night's rest, maybe?"

"Mmm." He slid his hand from her arm to her neck, and kneaded gently at the muscles there. "I'm thinking more drastic measures are called for. My thought is this. We retire to your tent and I show you the sort of massage skills that one only learns growing up in an Antivan whorehouse."

She had closed her eyes in response to the pressure of his fingers, her thoughts drifting; at his softly spoken words she struggled to focus on what he meant, her eyes snapping open in response, her muddled thoughts clearing. "Are you suggesting what I think you are?"

His smile had turned as sly as his voice. "If you mean to ask whether or not there might be more than a massage involved, allow me simply to say that you won't be disappointed with any of the techniques I have picked up over the years."

Her mind seemed to freeze. They had been leading to this, she knew that. Had anticipated it. Seeing him standing there though, putting it into words, she thought back to every single lesson she had ever learned about such things growing up. Joining with someone was serious. Not to be done lightly. This would most definitely take her off her old path forever. The person she had been would be as gone as her old life. She felt her throat working, and struggled to make a reply. "Zevran. I... don't know about this."

His hand continued it's slow rhythm on her neck, and she could feel his breath on her face. He leaned forward in what she thought was going to be a kiss, but paused his descent when his lips barely brushed her own as he replied. "Why not?"

Her mind was clouding again, and it took all her willpower to not lean into him, meet his mouth more fully. "We're not exactly alone..."

"No we are not." He teased her a moment, lips meeting for a mere second before retreating. "I can be very quiet."

She shook her head, and took a deliberate step back, a strained laugh tumbling from her. "I need time. I need to think about this. It's a big step." She knew she was being a coward, and avoiding something she very desperately wanted. She needed to be sure though.

He expression didn't change but he did lean forward for a more solid kiss before stepping away himself, his hand dropping to his side. "I suppose I will trust you to let me know when. I do hate waiting though, yes?" He sent her a wink and disappeared around the corner of her tent.

She stood a moment and stared after him, her mind still trying to focus completely. She finally slapped a hand against her face, and let out a frustrated breath. She was an idiot, and only the fact that it would be inappropriate to jump him in the middle of camp kept her from chasing after him. With an annoyed sigh she slipped into her tent, ready for a sleepless night.


	9. A Question

**I love Zevran, I really do, but some of his scenes in the game are very frusterating for a gushy romantic such as myself. I toyed around with the dialogue in this one because it seemed to flow better this way. All in all I was trying my best to make Zevran seem more terrified of getting close to someone and less like he just didn't care about anything besides sex. Hopefully I made that work. Also, very sorry I skipped over the naughty bits. I have nothing against smut, it just isn't what I want to focus on in this story.  
Also in reply to a couple of messages I have gotten. I am not doing all of Zevran's cut scenes, and I am not going to be focusing on any of the other companions more then I need to to further the story. For the first point, I wasn't going for a long detailed story with this, more of an overview. Specific moments within the larger story. For the second point, this is a story about Lyna and Zevran. The other things are happening, but they aren't important to the love story.**

**Thanks to all who have commented, favorites, followed, etc. You make Zan very happy, and a happy Zan writes much more often then a sad one. :)**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

She felt like she was being hunted. Every step she took was dogged by the golden elf. She would sit around the fire with the others, eating, and he would be there, just barely close enough to touch. She would be fighting, and he would spin past her, his body brushing hers. Hands lingered over skin while they traveled, gazes burned when she managed to slip past him. He had even managed to corner her from the others a few times in the dark spaces between tents and trees. Kisses dragging her under and making her tremble.

Creators, making her _want_.

They were traveling to Soldier's Peak before they headed to the Landsmeet, and by the time they were camped at its base, she felt like she was drawn as tight as a bow string.

One that was about to snap.

They planned on traveling into the keep in the morning, a way of helping one of the group followers to redeem his family name. She encouraged everyone to rest well, unsure of the dangers or stresses of the following day. Once everyone appeared settled she made her way to her own tent, exchanging her armor for a soft wool tunic, and letting her bare feet wiggle over the cool earth.

Then she went to find him.

He was settled by his own tent, his legs crossed, and his weapons laid across his lap as he sharpened them. She took a moment to study him, burnished gold in the fading fire light, his eyes distant and unfocused.

When he turned them to look at her, she startled then cursed herself when he let out a soft laugh. "Was there something you needed, cariño?"

She folded her arms over her chest and stepped further into the light. She should have known he would hear her. It was what he was trained for after all.

She shoved a hand through her hair, and tried to look everywhere but actually at his face.

Coward.

"I was wondering if you could join me in my tent."

"Oh?" He set his daggers to the side, and raised a brow as he turned to look at her more fully. "Is there something in your tent that needs assassinating? That is my specialty, or so I'm told."

She felt the heat of the blush spread over her face, and lost her nerve.

"I was only joking, just forget it."

She turned away from him, intent on getting as far away as she could. She had made it only a few steps when she felt the hand curl over her arm, and looked up into amused amber eyes.

"Now now, cariño, you are the one who brought this up. It's not every day that a man receives this sort of invitation, after all." When she merely stood there, staring, bright scarlet flaming across her face, he continued. "As the wise man once said. Ask, and you shall receive."

They stared at each other a few moments. Tense despite the easy look on his face. She thought that he would let her go. Knew he would if she asked, and for some reason that made her want to not turn him away even more. Drawing her courage around her like a cloak, she willed the flames in her face to calm, and tried her best to meet his gaze directly. She was Lyna Mahariel. Dalish hunter. Grey Warden. She would not be cowed by the lustful gazes of a flat ear assassin.

Whatever it took to not run screaming from him.

"Fine. Get in my tent. No more questions."

He dropped his hold on her, a smile ghosting over his lips as he took a step back. She watched as he raised a hand to give her a lazy salute. "Yes, ma'am." With that he turned and disappeared into her tent. She took a deep breath, and then another before following him.

She didn't give herself a chance to think about it. She merely threw her arms around his neck, and crashed her lips into his own. They stood there a moment, frozen in surprise, before Zevran finally laughed lightly against her mouth, and pulled back. "Maybe you should let me take the lead, yes? Just this once of course."

She appreciated the humor that danced in his eyes, even as he smoothed a hand down her back in a soothing gesture. "Relax, Lyna, let me show you."

So she did.

* * *

She laid tangled over his chest, her hair splayed in her face, and her skin covered in a residue of sweat. She thought perhaps she had been going about this all wrong. They should have started this much sooner. She was already having a hard time remembering all the reasons she had wanted to wait. Tilting her head she buried her face into his chest a moment before letting out a muffled sigh when he ran a hand down her spine.

"See? I knew this would happen eventually. I should have warned you right when you refused to kill me. It was inevitable. Even with all your assurances that it wouldn't."

She smiled against him, and when she spoke her voice was rough, "You're practically a public menace." She hadn't meant it as a joke, but she felt his laugh, and looked up to see him smiling down at her. "It's true. They used to issue warnings about me at the Antivan border." He let his head fall back, and his eyes close. "Ah, the good old days."

They were silent a while, relaxed and content in the warmth of the tent. Finally, just as she started to let her mind wander, worries and anxiety popping up, he pushed up slightly, moving to rest on his elbows. "So, then. As the priestess so famously said to the handsome actor. What now?" She pulled up, and crossed her legs before pulling one of her blankets over herself. She studied him a moment, worrying her lip, before speaking. "I was about to ask you the same thing."

He tilted her a smile, and reached out to brush her hair behind her ear, his thumb moving to smooth over her lip, and stop her from chewing on it. "Allow me to make it simple for you, my Grey Warden. What comes next is completely up to you."

She frowned at him, and pulled the blanket tighter around herself. She didn't want to be the only one making such a decision. She wanted to know they were both on the same page. "Surely you have some say in the matter, Zevran. After all it involves you." He merely continued to smile, his hands waving away the thought as so much nonsense. When her frown deepened, he clarified. "I was raised to take my pleasures where they could be found, for they do not come very often. I shall ask nothing of you that you are not willing to give."

She looked off, over his shoulder. She wasn't sure what to say to that. She knew what she was getting into with him, had stepped into it eyes open. Still she couldn't seem to stop what came out of her mouth. "What about love?"

He stared at her, his own face slowly mirroring her own. She could practically hear him tense as he stood from the pallet and started to pace, still naked, across her tent. "I was born of a whore and bred as an assassin. All I know is of pleasure and death. What room is there in those things for love?"

She wanted to answer, to tell him that there was plenty of room for it there. More room in those for it then anywhere else. It was needed there more than anywhere else. She couldn't though, because she could hear the hardness in his voice, and could see the cloud of panic that had entered his eyes. So instead she merely sat there and watched him move from one end of the tent to the other, then back again.

After a minute he finally turned back to look at her, unsure in his movements in a way she had never seen before. He pushed a hand through his hair, and finally met her gaze, his gaze sharpening some. "At any rate, I should probably let you get some sleep. A new day is awaiting us, or so the rumor goes." She sent him a nod, but he didn't leave, instead he shifted from foot to foot, then spoke again. "Don't make more of this then it is. Don't expect me to give more then I have in me."

She smiled at that, and could see the surprise on his face at the expression. "I wouldn't. You don't have to leave. No more talk of love, I promise."

He seemed unsure, and she took advantage of the indecision by reaching out to grip his hand, and pull him towards her. She knew what she was doing. Was going into this with eyes wide open. If she still harbored the hope that things might change, she wasn't hurting anyone but herself with it. In the meantime though, she would take what she could get, and try not to wish it was more.


	10. A Rejection

**It ha****s been about a month since I wrote anything. Don't you hate writer's block? I do. I want to kill it with fire. I think I have started various chapters for both this and my other story about 10 times, and kept deleting them because I couldn't get past the first paragraph.**_  
_

**Bah.**

**Hopefully that is over, and both this and I Found You will start updating regularly, especially since I have a break from school because of Christmas.  
**

**Again, I apologize for the long wait, I hope you all haven't abandoned me, not that I could blame you. :)  
**

**I hope you enjoy, and I wrote an extra long chapter to try and make up for it!**

* * *

_She was dreaming, she had to be. she knew there was no way she could really be sitting in the woods, her feet resting in a cool spring, while the sun danced through the tree leaves and warmed her face. She also recognized the "not quite real" feel of the world around her, the odd softening of the edges, the blur of movement when an insect moved nearby. She thought briefly about trying to wake up but decided against it when she felt a hand brush over her shoulders. She turned to look up into Zevran's smiling face. He looked relaxed, his features more open then she had seen in, well, ever. She waited as he settled next to her._

_"Taking a rest?"_

_She gave a nod, and glanced to the side, taking note of the odd sheen of darkness that hung just outside the ring of trees. Definitely the Fade._

_"I have a question, if I may."_

_Strange that her dream of him would say such a thing, she knew the real him wouldn't. She merely looked over to him._

_"Well here is the thing. I swore an oath to serve you, yes?" He continued on without waiting for an answer. "And I understand the quest you are on, and this all very fine and well. My question pertains to what you intend to do with me once this business is over with. As a point of curiosity."_

_"Is this after I ravish you in celebration?" She heard him chuckle before replying. "Of course it is afterwards. The ravishing part is a given." He was quiet a moment, watching her feet kick back and forth in the clear water. "One simply assumes that, once your Grey Warden business is finished, you would have no need of an assassin to follow you about." His eyes moved to her face. "Am I wrong?"_

_It bothered her that he would think that she only wanted him around because of the oath, even if he was only a figment of the Fade. Is that really why she thought he was still around?_

_"I'll not hold you to any oath. Leave whenever you like."_

_"Oh? I made the oath willingly, but if that's how you see it then all the better. For the moment it's still best that I stay, considering my standing with the Crows."_

_She knew she was frowning, knew that she was annoyed with the statement, because that was the other crutch of the matter. She was his protection against the Crows. Of course he was staying with her._

_She felt him watching her, and was only a little surprised when he reached a hand up to smooth the line that had creased between her eyebrows. "But, let's assume that I didn't want to leave when the time came. What then?"_

_"Why wouldn't you go, if you had the chance?" It was a question she had wanted to ask the real him several times, but had always backed down, not sure if she wanted to know the answer._

_His hand dropped from her face, and he looked back down at the water, a hand reaching out to take a rock and toss it in. "That is difficult to say... Is there no one that I might stay for?"_

_"I'd like that."_

_"So would I, I should think."_

_They sat silently for awhile, the sound of the running water, and the breeze the only noises in their small haven._

_"It would be good for me to know what my options might be, but it might be best to wait on discussing it for another time." They stared at each other a moment, and he offered a tilted smile. "For now, we have much to do, yes?"_

_Blights, and kings, and uniting a country. Yes, they had much to do._

* * *

She woke to the smell of bile and death. She vaguely registered that she was laying on a stone floor, and staring up at a low ceiling. She was freezing, and a cursory glance down at herself showed that the reason was because she had been stripped to her smalls. She pushed herself up, going immediately for the door she saw in front of her. It was locked. Not surprising. A glance to either side showed iron bars, and guards passing back and forth beyond them.

"Oh... you're awake! I was starting to worry."

Her head whipped around to see Alistair pushing to stand near the back corner of their cell. On a curse she closed the distance between them, the memory of what had happened coming back in a rush. They had been captured by Loghain's men. The only way she could see to get Anora out of captivity, hidden with the other's who they did not want.

"Are you alright, lethallin?"

Alistair laughed and stilled her hands from where they fluttered around him, searching for wounds. "I've been worse. I'll be better when we get out of here."

She nodded resolutely and dropped her hands from his. "Don't worry the others will come and get us."

"Oh?" The word was low, and he merely stared at her a moment. "Who would be coming to get us exactly?"

"Zevran." The name was out before she thought on it. If he cared for her even a little he wouldn't simply leave her here, though she could think of poorer break ups. "And probably Morrigan or Leliana. Wynne would agree to let someone younger come, Sten would assume, and demand that we get out on our own, and Oghren is probably already three sheets to the wind, since he didn't think he would need to fight today. Not that it would matter." She added the last past under her breath as she stared out through the bars.

"You're sleeping with him."

She blinked and looked back into Alistair's frowning face. "Oghren?!" She said it on a laugh, and just managed to not make a gagging sound.

"No, not Oghren. Zevran. You're sleeping with him."

She turned to face him more fully. She had already had this conversation with most of her group, all of them apparently needing to make their feelings known in the weeks since she and Zevran had begun sharing a tent. She had been avoiding it with Alistair. It seemed she couldn't anymore.

"Yes."

"Why?" The word was said on a long huff of breath that could almost be considered a laugh. "Why would you choose... him? Him instead of... of."

"You?"

"Anyone!" The word burst out, and they merely stared at each other a moment.

She sighed and went to sit against the stone wall in the back of the cell, waiting while he followed. "It just... happened. It's not like I set out on this whole journey in hopes of finding someone to share my bed."

His face was set, and she had an urge to grip his arm, or run a hand through his hair, but refrained. "I had thought... We were headed somewhere, weren't we, Lyna?" He looked at her then, his face more serious then she had ever seen, and she cursed Zevran for being right. She should have talked to him sooner. "It never would have worked Alistair."

"How do you know? It's because I took too long. I was so preoccupied with everything that had happened at Ostagar, I completely missed letting you slip through my fingers, and into the more than willing hands of... an assassin." The last word was said contemptuously, and he waved his hands in disgust. "You never had a chance."

"Hey!" She scowled at him. "What am I? Some da'len? I don't make rash decisions, and I don't fall into bed just because some man smiled at me. I didn't realize I was so vulnerable to pretty words." She stood and paced the cell, her arms waving as she talked. "You must think very little of me. It's a wonder anyone let's me lead, what with me being so easily swayed."

Alistair was shaking his hand, standing to grip her shoulders and stop her. "That's not what I meant... I don't... I just... I wanted it to be me." He sighed and stepped back, running a hand through his hair and causing it to stand on end. "I thought you would wait."

The heat left her just as quickly as it came, and she blew out a breath before reaching up to smooth his hair. She had thought the same thing once, that she would wait as long as needed. It was a testament to the relationship being doomed that she hadn't. "It never would have worked anyway." She repeated. " We only ever started on that path because we didn't have anyone else. I had lost Tamlen, and my clan, and you had lost the Grey Wardens. I think we were both just looking for comfort." She patted a hand to his chest, and tried to smile, she didn't want to argue with him.

"It's not about comfort. I love you." He bent and placed his lips over hers, causing her to blink in shock. She didn't push away, though she probably should have, instead she closed her eyes and kissed him back. It was sweet, and gentle, and just a little desperate on his end. He wasn't bad, especially for someone raised in the Chantry, and he was better then she had been her first few times; she found it to be an enjoyable enough experience.

But it didn't quicken her blood, or cause her toes to curl.

It didn't make her want.

After a few more moments it ended, and she met his gaze with her own as he studied her. "But you don't love me."

She couldn't say it, and instead gave a shake of her head, and looked off past him.

He walked past her and leaned against the iron bars, his face hidden as he stared down at the various racks of torture equipment in the pit below them. After several minutes of silence he finally spoke. "You know, I've been thinking... Back when we left Goldanna's you told me I needed to look out for myself more than I do." She gave a nod to his back, even though he couldn't see it. She had said that. It had been a desperate attempt to get him to man up, maybe start thinking toward the future. Maybe start thinking on being king.

She had regretted it almost immediately, still able to see the hurt of his sister's rejection in his eyes.

He turned back to look at her, his face carefully passive as he folded his arms over his chest. "I'm beginning to think you were right." She gave a helpless shrug as he continued. "I need to stop letting everyone else make my decisions for me. I need to take a stand and think about myself for a change, or I'm never going to be happy." He managed a bitter smile. "Maybe if I had done that sooner, I wouldn't have lost you."

She started to argue that point. Point out that he had never really had her to lose, but decided it wouldn't help anything. Instead she put on her smile, slightly brittle, and went to sit back against the wall again. "It's about time, I say."

He gave a nod, "Then from this point on, I'll be looking out for myself more. I should have done this a long time ago." His smile turned a bit more self deprecating. "Who can blame you for moving on. I never wanted to make a decision about anything, I wanted you to do everything for me. Maker, I can't keep asking other people to fix my problems. I'm an adult, sooner or later I need to start acting like one."

She just sat and watched him, moving over a bit when he came to sit next to her. "I just wanted to thank you." When she gaped at him, he laughed, and slung a companionable arm around her shoulders. "Having you as a friend..." The word fell out like it was bitter in his mouth. "Having you as a friend is the one bright spot out of everything that's happened."

She smiled and leaned her head on his shoulder. "Thank you. That's very sweet. I don't think I deserve it."

He merely tightened his grip, and smiled down at her. "You do."

* * *

It was a few more hours of sitting in the cold, and smell before they heard fighting coming from down the hall. They both were up and pressed against the bars, straining to see the door below, when the familiar forms of Zevran and Leliana emerged.

She let out a whoop and shouted down to get their attention. Smiling they ran up the stairs, Leliana brandishing a ring of keys they had acquired from one of the guards. When the door swung open she moved to the chest by the door, Alistair moving through to join her. Lyna started after him but was stopped by Zevran, his hands coming up to grip her face, his eyes scanning her. "Are you alright?"

She could only blink, confused at his expression of concern. Finally, she replied, silently berating herself for staring. "Yes...yes, of course. I'm fine...a little cold."

"This will help." Leliana moved to them, holding out Lyna's armor and weapons, and Zevran dropped his hands and stepped away, his face shuttering. She turned away from it, afraid to break whatever it was he was thinking at that moment, and thank Leliana. Taking the gear she quickly donned it, and tested her bow, checking to see if it had been damaged. She shouldered it and gripped her daggers, smiling widely at the others.

"So are we ready to get out of here?"


	11. An Ultimatum

**Blarg blarg blarg. Mixed and matched responses. Blarg blarg blarg. Long day.**

**Enjoy! :)**

* * *

She was enjoying the talk with Leliana. The both of them stumbling over each other to get out what had happened, curious on both ends about how it could be used. It was her own fault for missing the signs, and causing the others to miss them as well with her distraction. She had been too sure of their safety now that they were in the city proper.

Almost back to Eamonn's estate.

When the gate slammed behind them she and Leliana both jumped, and reflex had them pulling out their bows as the group spun in tight circles, searching for the attack.

There was nothing.

She saw Alistair and Zevran pull their weapons from their backs out of the corner of her eye, and when they were ready she motioned with her head for everyone to follow her.

Making their way up the slopped curve of the street, she kept her arrow pointed forward, moving slowly until finally they stood before a raised dais of wood. She stopped and stared at the man standing in the center of it, surrounded by a loose ring of fighters, a smirk on his face. She frowned at him, seeing something familiar in the expression, and kept her arrow trained on him as he took a step forward. The others came up behind her, weapons drawn, and at the ready.

"And so here is the mighty Grey Warden at long last. The Crows send their greetings, once again."

She knew then why his expression seemed familiar. Sly and judging, and a little too slick. It was the same look Zevran had given her right before he had yelled for her death. Her frown deepened, her brows pulling down, but before she could reply Zevran stepped up and around her, his hands dropping to his side as he called up to the man.

"So they sent you, Taliesen. Or did you volunteer for the job?" He kept his posture relaxed, but she noted the way he moved in front of her. It almost made her smile. Did he think she needed protecting? She lifted her bow so the arrow pointed just over his shoulder, and directly at Taliesen's head. She also made sure to keep her scowl in place.

The Crow sent him an easy smile, and waved his hand. "I volunteered of course. When I heard that the great Zevran had gone rouge, I simply had to see it for myself."

"Is that so? Well here I am, in the flesh."

She watched as Taliesen let his posture relax, matching Zevran's. He studied the elf for a few moments and then his expression turned friendly. His voice was cajoling when he spoke again. "You can return with me, Zevran. I know why you did this, and I don't blame you. It's not too late. Come back and we'll make up a story. Anyone can make a mistake."

She watched as the two stared at each other, the air stone still and silent around them. The look Taliesen had on his face, and the fact that Zevran did not reply right away. Creators, had they been lovers? If so, this man clearly had a longer and stronger relationship to pull on then she did. There was a ringing in her ears, and she felt like she was drowning. What if he decided to leave? What if he decided to fight with the Crows in what surely was going to turn into a "kill the Warden" fight? There was no way the Crows were going to let her stay alive.

She couldn't fight him. Not him. She definitely couldn't kill him.

It hit her like a punch in the gut. Creators, she was in love with him. Completely and stupidly in love with him. It was just there, as if it had been for a long time, which, she supposed, it had. She wasn't sure when it had happened, but there she was.

This was a disaster.

"Of course I'd need to be dead first, would I not?" Her voice sounded like it was coming from a long way off, the ringing still a high shrill on her brain, and she shook her head to clear it.

Her voice seemed to break whatever spell had fallen over them, and she saw Zevran jerk and look back at her, eyes blinking. His gaze searched hers, and he gave a shake of his head. "And, I'm not about to let that happen."

Overhearing, Taliesen's face clouded, anger lacing his words. "What? You've gone soft!"

Zevran looked back up to him, his face set, though his voice was filled with something she thought was very close to sadness. "I'm sorry, my old friend, but the answer is no. I'm not coming back... and you should have stayed in Antiva." They all watched as Taliesen tightened his grip on his sword, face reddening in fury. He spat out something in Antivan that had Zevran shaking his head again. "You're going to lose Taliesen. You're going to lose badly. You don't have to do this. You have a choice."

In response, Taliesen growled out one word, traitor, then raised his arm, and the group attacked.

It was over quickly, more quickly then she would have thought with the number they were up against, but she supposed she couldn't complain. Now she stood, shoulder to shoulder with Zevran as they stood over the fallen body of his friend. She placed a hand on his arm, and stood silently while he stared down at the lifeless face. She didn't know what to say, how did you thank someone for choosing to kill a friend over you, so she let eyes wandering over to watch as Alistair and Leliana rooted through the other bodies in search of coin.

"And there it is. Taliesen is dead, and I am free of the Crows."

She turned her attention back to Zevran, his conversational tone at odds with the carefully blank look on his face. "They will assume that I am dead along with Taliesen. So long as I do not make my presence known to them, they will not seek me out."

She wasn't sure what to say to that. She wanted to tell him she was sorry, so very sorry that this had happened, that she had never wanted to make him choose between her and anyone else, but it all seemed self serving in the face of what had happened. Nothing she could say would make anything better. "Isn't that a good thing?" She said it lamely, settling for not mentioning Taliesen at all.

He looked over to her, his expression softening some as he reached up a hand to smooth back the hair that fell in her face. "A very good thing. It is, in fact, what I hoped for ever sense you decided not to kill me." He dropped his hand and turned to face her more fully. "I suppose it would be possible for me to leave now, if I wished. I could go somewhere far away, somewhere where the Crows would never find me." She bit her lip to stop from saying anything, and he smiled at the sight. "I think, however, that I could also stay here, I made an oath to help you after all, and saving the world seems a worthy task to see though to the end, yes?"

She thought of her dream, her worries about him staying only because of some misplaced idea that he was sworn to it. A throwback to his life as a Crow.

She did not want him there out of duty. She hadn't in a long time. She forced herself to keep her tone light, her face clear. "If you want to go, you should go. You have to know I would never hold you to an oath, especially one you made when you thought I might kill you."

He let out a short laugh, running a hand over his face, and looking off to the side. "But that is what I am asking you. Do you want me to go? Do you need me here?"

She wanted to shout yes, that she did need him here. She loved him, and the very idea of never seeing him again was like a dagger in her heart. Instead she rubbed a hand over his arm, and forced a smile. "I want you to do what's best for you."

His expression turned quizzical, and he laughed again. "I... am not sure how to respond to that. I mean, normally, these things are decided by others."

"I'm not the Crows, Zevran. You are your own person. You have to decide what you want."

"Err..." For the first time since she had met him he seemed genuinely confused. "Then I suppose I shall... stay? Is that... good?"

She felt her smile widen, and couldn't help the response she gave. "It would be hard to kiss you if you left."

He gave a low laugh, and moved closer to her, dipping his head so his lips were just barely brushing hers. "You know... that is so very true." He captured her mouth then, the kiss gentle and searching. Wrapping her arms around his neck she returned it happily, her heart lifting.

They stayed wrapped together until Leliana gave a discreet cough. She pulled away, blushing, and avoided the gaze of their other companions, not wanting to see what they thought of the display. Instead she cleared her throat and scrubbed a hand through her hair, the tie long lost. Mumbling something purposefully unintelligible under her breathe, she moved to leave the alley, the others falling into step behind her.


	12. A Confession

**Hmm... I might go back and play around with this chapter, it just seems weird in places. Oh well, I obviously like it well enough to post it.**

**This part of the game always kinda made me sad. I remember feeling so bad for poor Zevran, even going back and watching videos to write this chapter made me all depressed. Seriously, I wanted to hug him, and I won't lie... I might have gotten a little teary-eyed at the part where he said he felt like he was nothing.  
**

**Bah, I'm such a softy. I need a shower to get all this emotion off.  
**

**Hope everyone enjoys!**

* * *

She had wanted to go immediately to her room once they had returned to the estate, but the humans had had other ideas. So, instead of resting, she had spent the next few hours in talks with Eamonn, Alistair, and Anora. Listening as they all laid out their ideas for the future of the monarchy. Anora, of course, had wanted Lyna to support her claim to the throne, letting Alistair stay a Grey Warden; she had even had good reasoning behind it. It was no more surprising then Eamonn wanting her to support Alistair, though she still didn't understand why any of them needed a Dalish elf's support.

She had surprised them all though, stating that Anora and Alistair should marry and rule together. Anora and Eamonn had taken it in stride, agreeing, after minimal protest, that it was a good compromise. Alistair had been a whole other matter. She didn't want to relive those events ever again. She had pulled out every trick she knew in persuasion, cajoling, and outright bullying that she could think of. In the end he had agreed, though she didn't like to think on the look he had given her as he had done so.

She sighed and stomped into her room and to the basin in the corner. Anora had told her of problems in the Alienage, and while she had a hard time understanding her city cousins, she knew she would have to check it out. She had already told her group they would be headed there first thing in the morning.

Splashing water over her face, she sighed and stared into the polished mirror in front of her a moment before stripping out of her armor to examine the bruises that blossomed over her arms and chest, reminders of her various fights that day. All she wanted was rest, rest and time to think. Precious commodities on her trip so far.

The door opening caught her attention and she shot a glance towards it as Zevran slipped in, settling onto the bed, and resting his back against the headboard so he could watch her. She merely grimaced and turned back to the basin to scrub at the dirt smudged over her skin.

In all truth she didn't want to talk to him. She was still trying to figure out what to do with her newly discovered feelings. She couldn't be in love, she didn't have time for it. She may have wanted something more than straight sex from him, but love? Creators, what was she suppose to do with that?

She hadn't wanted to love anyone after Tamlen.

She splashed her face again and then started scrubbing at it, welcoming the sting it caused in the cut on her cheek.

She nearly jumped when Zevran cleared his throat. "The symphony I see in thee/ it whispers songs to me./ Songs of hot breath upon my neck / songs of soft sighs by my head / songs of nails upon my back / songs of thee come to my bed."

Lyna had straightened and turned to stare at him, blinking a few times. Finally a giggle bubbled up and out, turning into a bright laugh as she shook her head. "Oh dear..."

He returned her grin. "Oh I know, I know. It was recited to me by a rather wealthy target of mine. She thought it would convince me to spare her."

Lyna pulled on a sleeping tunic and moved to the bed, settling by his feet and crossing her legs. "And did it?"

"Well, I had sex with her, but that goes without saying."

She laughed again. "Of course."

He shrugged and shifted a bit, giving her more room. "She still had to die, but the poem was amusing at the time, so I've always remembered it."

She raised a brow and propped her arms on her legs, leaning forward a bit. "You killed her anyway?" Not that it surprised her in the least. He was nothing if not consistent.

"Well, yes, but after we made love. What do you think I am, some kind of monster?" He shot her a mock look of horror, causing her to laugh again before he continued. "It's not as if she didn't enjoy herself. Certainly there are much less pleasant ways to spend your last hours, no?"

She snorted, well use to his ways of thinking. "You are a saint among men, Zevran."

He tapped a finger to his chin and smirked good-naturedly. "You know, I kept telling the other Crows that, and yet they never felt the same way." He reached forward, grabbing her hand, and tugged at her until she toppled forward, forced to readjust to lean against him. "I thought you might be cheered up by some naughty poetry. You simply looked so.. unhappy lately." When she made a face he chuckled. "Such an unflattering expression for such a lovely face."

She let the compliment warm her, and snuggled closer to him. "I appreciate the effort."

"Do you? It's always pleasing to have one's efforts recognized. Good karma all around."

She shifted to look up at him. "So what should I do if you are looking unhappy?"

"Me?" He fell quiet, as if unsure how to answer. "I tend to make the best of whatever situation I find myself in, stealing what moments I can. It's served me well, most days." He looked back down at her. "You might learn to do the same."

She made another face.

"I do that."

"Do you?" She could hear the humor in his voice, and bit down on her own smile. "I learn something new about you everyday it seems."

They sat in silence for a long while, long enough that she felt his breath even, and shallow, lulled by the bed and warmth of the room. A vast improvement over tents and furs.

She almost let it go, let them both drift to sleep, but the day still nagged at her brain. She hated herself a little for it.

Shifting to sit up she watched as he opened his eyes, curiosity shifting over his face as he took in her concerned expression. "What is it?"

"About Taliesen..." She trailed off as he sighed and pushed to sit up more fully on the bed, turning his body so that he was facing her. "I think it's time I told you about my last mission before we met. You have been a good friend to me, no? You deserve the story."

She didn't like the word friend, but decided that arguing the point wouldn't make him any more inclined to tell her what had happened, so instead gave a short nod.

He spread his hands open in front of him a moment, then surprised her by taken her own, rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles as he stared at a point in the corner. "There is a reason I accepted this mission in Fereldan, far away from home, and it had nothing to do with any thought that I might leave the Crows." A smile ghosted over his lips. "Meeting you, after all, was quite an accident."

"The mission before this one... did not end well."

"It failed? Or was it something else?" She prompted him after a few moments of silence, and he looked back to her, though his gaze was still distant. "No...no. The mission itself was quite successful. I meant that it did not end well for me. You must realize that until that day I was cocky and arrogant. I was the best Crow in Antiva, or so I believed, and I bragged of my conquests often... both as an assassin and lover."

Her first instinct was to ask how he could have been more arrogant then he was now, but she bit back the words, knowing they weren't the right response. "What happened?" He sighed and let his eyes fall to their joined hands, his fingers playing with hers. "One of the Crow masters grew tired of my boasting. My bid for an incredibly difficult mark was accepted, much to my surprise. A wealthy merchant with many guards, and completely silent. Taliesen agreed to be part of my team, as well as an elven girl named Rinna. She was..." He let out a short humorless laugh. "A marvel. Tough, smooth, wicked. Eyes that gleamed like justice. Everything I thought I desired."

She tried to stop the surge of jealousy that washed through her at his words. Obviously he was no longer with this Rinna, or he wouldn't be here, but it didn't seem to help. She forced her words out over the tightening in her throat, and they tasted like ashes in her mouth. "And you fell in love."

He didn't say anything for a few moments, then dropped her hands and tugged at his hair, his gaze falling everywhere but on her own. "Rinna was special. I had closed off my heart, I thought, but she touched something within me. It frightened me."

She merely nodded, though she was unsure if he saw it. She could understand that. Even relate to it. Had she not been in love with Tamlen? Yes, yes she had, though it had never frightened her.

It didn't help.

"When Taliesen revealed to me that Rinna had accepted a bribe from the merchant, told him of our plan, I readily agreed that she needed to pay the price and allowed Taliesen to kill her."

Jealously turned to concern as she saw the dark cloud close off his expression, though she kept silent as he continued. "Rinna begged me not to. On her knees, with tears in her eyes, she told me that she loved me and had not betrayed us. I laughed in her face..." He trailed off a moment, his lips thinning into a white line. "I said that even if it was true... I didn't care."

"But... that wasn't true." She couldn't imagine what had caused him to say such a thing.

"I convinced myself it was."

He scrubbed his face with his hands, and when they dropped his eyes were bloodshot and his face was pale under his tan. "Taliesen cut her throat and I watched her bleed as she stared up at me. I spat on her for betraying the Crows. When Taliesen and I finally assassinated the merchant we found the true source of his information. Rinna had not betrayed us after all."

She made some sound in her throat, and gripped one of his hands herself this time, the other coming up to brush over his cheek. " You had no way of knowing that..."

Another humorless laugh and he finally met her gaze. "Of course not. I didn't care to know. I... wanted to tell the Crows what we had done, our mistake. Taliesen convinced me not to. He said that it would be a foolish waste. So we reported that Rinna had died in the attempt.

"We needn't have bothered. The Crows knew what we had done. The master who disliked me told me so to my face. He said that the Crows knew... and they didn't care. And one day my turn would come."

She didn't know that she could feel such hate, such hate for a group of people that she had never met. She had always believed that there was a redeeming quality in everyone, and yet, at that moment, she could have killed Taliesen all over again, and every single other Crow with him. It was barbaric, they were barbaric, and she ached with sorrow for the man in front of her, unsure if there was anything she could possibly say. "You felt guilty." A statement, not a question.

"I felt empty." His eyes held hers a moment before trailing to the fireplace. "I felt as if I was nothing. I felt as if she had been nothing."

He pulled his hand free and slid from the bed, moving to the fire, so he could stare into it, still pale even in its warmth. "You once asked why I wanted to leave the Crows, do you remember?" She did, though it seemed like a lifetime ago. "In truth, what I wanted was to die. What better way than to throw myself at one of the fabled Grey Wardens?"

She didn't have an answer for that, and instead sat silently until he turned to look at her, giving a shrug at her questioning look. "And then... this happened, and here I am."

Words, any words, seemed insufficient. What could you say to such a thing? She settled for replying, lamely, "I'm so sorry, Zevran."

A faint smile appeared and he returned to the bed, settling beside her, their legs brushing. "It... feels good to speak of it to someone. I swore I never would." He paused a moment to lace their fingers together. "Whatever it was I sought by leaving Antiva, I think I have found it. I owe you a great deal."

He didn't owe her anything, though she didn't think he would hear it at the moment. Instead she gave a nod and placed her free hand over their joined ones. "I'm glad to have you with me."

His smile widened a bit and he lifted her hand to kiss it lightly before standing. "I don't feel like sitting about anymore. I think I need to go out for awhile. Get some sleep, _cariño_, you need it."

He slipped out quickly, and she didn't try to stop him.


	13. A Repayment

**It was around this time in the game that I wanted to smack Zev upside the head and tell him to stop being such a pansy.  
**

**It's probably a good thing that that isn't an option.**

* * *

The Alienage had rejoiced upon their return. It had turned out food and drink, people threw open their homes, and the elder had insisted that they stay and enjoy the party. Which they had, some more than others.

Lyna smiled ruefully at the lump in the corner that was Oghren. She had brought him along to the Alienage to get him aired out, and been rewarded by him drinking nearly an entire cask of wine by himself, asking her to go to bed with him, and promptly passing out when she had laughingly replied for him to get out of his cloths. Now she sat near his form, Morrigan posted at her other side as the party continued around them.

She had never been one for loud voices and crushing bodies, and she knew Morrigan hated every moment of it, but it had seemed rude not to accept the invitation, no matter how uncomfortable she felt.

At least Oghren had enjoyed himself, and Zevran appeared in his element as he regaled a large group in another corner with tales of his exploits. She watched as the group, mostly women, clustered around him, eyes wide as he relayed the story, a loud burst of laughter ringing out over something he said. She watched as Shianni, the elf who had initially greeted them upon their arrival, slid closer to Zevran, and ran a hand slowly up his leg. She was amused as she watched him disengage the hand, leaning down to say something that made the red head blush brightly. She couldn't find it in her to be jealous, he was an elf, handsome, young, and had helped free their people. She would be more surprised if one of them didn't try to repay him in bed. So she merely raised a brow, her expression amused when he straightened and looked over to her, a matching smile on his own face.

She turned when Morrigan jabbed at her side, her expression unamused. "I understand why you agreed to enjoy this... hospitality, but I believe I am ready to head back, and if you want help getting the dwarf back with us, I suggest we leave now." Lyna merely continued to smile, her arm catching with the witch's. "All right, I'm more than ready anyway."

It took them time to round up Zevran, brushing the women off good naturedly as they tried to tag along, and scoop Oghren from the pile he had made on the floor. They thanked the ones they saw, and managed to pass through the gate to the city proper with minimal fanfare.

She breathed a sigh of relief when they were in the open air, they may have still been in the city, but at least they weren't surrounded by people. She walked slowly, watching as Oghren stumbled next to Morrigan, clutching at her occasionally, while Morrigan bore it in stone faced silence, and Zevran tried to extract him. She couldn't help but be amused by it. Somehow, in all their long months together, this group, in it's strange way, had become her family, and as much as they snipped and clashed heads, she knew that they were solid, they would support each other, they would stand united.

By the time they got Oghren into a bed, and she had placated Morrigan enough to stop scowling, she was exhausted. She flopped onto her bed, arms and legs spread, still fully clothed in all her armor. She closed her eyes and let out a happy sigh as she heard Zevran laughing. He tugged at her boots, and, once they were off, stretched out onto the bed beside her.

She enjoyed the quiet of it, and turned to press her face into his neck. There wasn't enough moments like this. Not enough downtime to enjoy it. She wondered, idly, if there would be after they had defeated the Blight, assuming they both lived, and assuming that he stuck around. She didn't know what her plans were when this was done. Didn't know what a Grey Warden was suppose to do with themselves in times of peace, though she did know the motto about being vigilant.

All she knew was that she wanted him there.

She felt him shifting and tilted her face up when she heard him speak. "Here..." He reached into a pouch and produced something small and glittering. "It seems an appropriate moment to give you this."

She pushed herself up on her elbow and looked from his hand to his face. "You don't have to give me anything." He merely smiled and shifted to sit cross legged beside her. "I may not need to, but I want to. I acquired it on my very first job for the Crows. A Rivaini merchant prince, and he was wearing a single, jeweled earring when I killed him." His smile turned rueful. "In fact, that's about all he was wearing. I thought it was beautiful, and took it to mark the occasion. I've kept it since..." He lifted her hand and dropped the small piece of jewelry into her hand. "And now I want you to have it."

She studied the jeweled drop as she shifted to sit up herself. She was fairly sure it was a ruby, cut into the shape of a tear, and dangling from a bright gold hoop. The whole thing glittered in the light of the fire, and sparks of light shot out from the facets of the gem. The gesture warmed her, and her face glowed with pleasure when she finally replied. "Thank you. It's very beautiful."

She watched as he blanched, one had coming up to wave dismissively, his expression closing off, and going carefully blank. "Don't get the wrong idea about it. You killed Taliesen. As far as the Crows are concerned I died with him. That means I am free, at least for now. Feel free to sell it, or wear it... or whatever you'd like. It's really the least I could give you in return."

And just like that, the pleasure died. She frowned down at the earring, her voice soft. "So... it's not a token of your affection, then?"

He scowled at her, and scrubbed a hand through his hair, pulling loose the braids. "I... look, just... just take it. It's meant a lot to me, but so have..." He blanched again. "So has what you've done." His voice softened to match hers. "Please, take it."

She stared at it another moment then gave a shake of her head. She knew she was being foolish, but she was tired, so tired of pretending like it didn't matter that he backed away from her every time she tried to take things a step further. Tired of being content with scraps. She deliberately pressed the earring into his open palm, making a point to meet his gaze, her face and voice carefully expressionless.

"I only want it if it means something."

She watched as his face reddened, and he choked on a breath. "You are a very frustrating woman to deal with, do you know that?" He stood from the bed, and began pacing the length of the floor, his bare feet slapping angrily against the wood. "We pick up every other bit of treasure we come across, but not this." He waved his arms in a definitive gesture, and stopped to scowl at her another moment. "You don't want the earring? You don't get the earring. Very simple."

For the second time in so many nights she watched him leave, this time in a huff of offended pride, and like the last time she merely watched him go.


	14. A Goodbye

**:(**

* * *

They had just made it out of Denerim when the attack came. She had woken quickly, the roar of the Archdemon in her head. She heard Shale shouting something, and left her tent at a run, armor half latched, and her daggers shoved haphazardly in her belt. She notched an arrow in her bow and aimed it toward where Shale was, even as she saw the first of the ghouls pour into the camp.

Alistair had already run into the fray, having woken at the same time as her, for the same reasons, and she watched as the others emerged, woken by the noise, and struggling to wrap their minds around what was happening.

She loosed her arrows in a steady stream at the wave of darkspawn, and when they ran out she cursed and dove into the group, daggers flashing. She barely registered the clashing of weapons around her, focused on her task. She took note of Zevran off to her right, even as Sten yelled, and took out five of the monsters with one swipe of his large sword, to her left. Spells burst around her, and she felt a healing wave wash through her.

They pushed, tireless, and slowly managed to cut through the undead numbers. She was finally seeing an end to the fight when she sensed one behind her. She whirled around, her dagger flying up so she could bring it down in an arching sweep, and froze.

Tamlen.

Her daggers clattered from her suddenly numb hands.

She heard shouting, but ignored it as she stared at the ghoul in front of her. It was Tamlen, but wrong, off, a shadow of the self he had been.

But she knew his eyes. They were the same, a bright teal blue, deep and clear, and filled with confusion.

"You... lethallan..."

His voice was wrong. Like it had been in the Gauntlet, though not as booming. She recognized it though, even with the gravel that seemed to grate through it. She stuttered out his name.

He threw up a hand, roughly shoving her back. "Don't... don't come near me! Stay away!"

He turned and ran through the remnants of the battle. After only a second of hesitation she took off after him, shouting at the others to stand down as they turned towards the commotion. She followed him to a small outcrop of trees, found him huddled against one, his hands pressed over his now bald skull. She took it in, along with the decay darkened skin, and drew up just short of his reach.

"Tamlen..."

"Don't... look at me! I am...sick..."

She stepped closer, her hands ghosting just over his form, her eyes wide. He couldn't be like this, not him. "We can help you, Tamlen. Don't be afraid." She stooped towards him, aware of the others coming to stand a short distance away, and dropped her voice. "Let me help you..."

He shook his head roughly, and jerked away from her. "No help. No...help for me." He looked up at her then, his familiar eyes dark with pain. "The song... in my head. It... calls to me. He sings to me... I can't stop it!"

He gripped his head again, making a rough sound, a half scream as he sank more to the ground. When he looked up again his expression was pleading. "Don't want to hurt you, lethallan. Please...stop me..."

She was shaking her head even before he finished. The breath was caught in her throat, and she had to force her words out. "You can't ask me to kill you... I can't do that."

For just a moment, just a split second his expression was familiar, a wry smile in an amused face. "_Emm'asha_... who else... would I ask?" Then he was screaming again, his knees giving out completely, and fell to kneel in the dirt.

She dropped beside him, her hands fisting and unfisting as she watched him struggle. She should never have left when she did, she should not have taken their word that he was gone. She should have kept looking. Creators, she never should have let him go into that cave.

Making up her mind she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, curling herself around him in a useless gesture of comfort and protection. She ignored the odd slide of his flesh over whatever was below it, the smell of death that surrounded him, and dipped her head so her mouth rested next to his ear, her voice a whisper for him alone, or whatever was left of him in this broken shell. "I wish we had never found that cave. I wish we could have had the life we talked about. I wish I could save you. _Na melana sahlin. Emma ir abelas. Ma'arlath_." She moved to kiss his cheek, even as she pulled the knife from her belt and slide it into his stomach. "I'll always love you."

He jerked against her, then relaxed, his voice flowing through her hair where his face still rested. "Always... loved you. I'm so sorry... _emm'asha_." His breath stilled and he slumped against her.

She wasn't sure how long she sat there, the clearing oddly quiet, before she finally heard moving, and soft murmurs. She looked up only when she felt a hand on her shoulder, and looked up to see Alistair, his hooded gaze worried as he dropped into a crouch beside her. She let him help her lay the body on the ground, though she kept hunched over it. She simply stared down at the form, her eyes dry and aching, not bothering to look up when he spoke again. "Who... is he?"

"Tamlen."

"Tamlen." He sounded surprised, but quickly caught himself and laid a hand on her back. "Then... he was the one was with you when you..." His voice trailed off and she looked up, a faint nod as she offered a small, empty smile. "Yes."

In the distance she noticed Zevran, Sten, and the Dalish representative, Gamen if she remembered correctly, disappear into the forest.

"I'm so sorry. This is what happens when the taint is left unchecked... It... it's better for him, to have it end. It was a mercy."

She shifted her attention back to him for a moment, but instead of replying she merely turned back to the body, her shoulders hunching again.

His hand dropped away, and she heard him stand and leave. She heard more murmurs but shut them out, her fingers running lightly over Tamlen's armor, so well known, so familiar, and her eyes ached again.

* * *

_She was running through the forest, her quiver slapping against her back, and the arrows in it jostling as she sprang across rocks and gaps. She had just slid down an embankment when there was a blur of to her side and she had the breath knocked out of her as it bore her to the ground in a tumbled flurry._

_She let out breathless laughter as she tried to untangle herself, hands shoving and slapping at the weight above her. Another laugh joined hers, and a hand moved to shove the hair from her eyes so she could stare into the smiling face above her. "Is that how you are suppose to treat women?"_

_He sent her a shocked look, and raised a hand to grasp her chin and tilt her face back and forth. "Are you a woman? I wasn't sure." She shoved at him again, and he laughingly dropped a quick kiss on her nose. "It may not work with others, emm'asha, but I only need it to work with you."_

_She relented when he leaned down again to kiss her, a gentle brush of lips that had her smiling, and him biting back a groan. "You are too distracting." He pushed himself to his feet then grabbed her hand to help her up, taking a moment to kiss her again before moving to pick up their strewn weapons._

_She watched him, a smile wide on her face. She had known him her whole life. Her earliest memories were of scrambling after him, up rocks, and through brush, while he laughed and called back at her, always older, always just a little faster, a little more agile. It had driven her crazy. But, finally, finally, they were on equal footing, She had completed her own hunt, she had become a hunter, an adult._

_Finally, they had talked about them, about wanting to be together. Of course it had always been assumed, expected, but it had brightened something between them that they had put it into words. They planned on telling Marethari as soon as they returned, it needed to be announced to the clan. She knew Ashalle would want to know, she had hoped for it._

_She shook her head and beamed at him when he brought her bow to her, and took an extra moment to lean up and kiss his cheek. He linked his hand with hers and they turned to make their way back to the village._

_It was then that they heard the unmistakable sounds of others. A trampling that could only belong to Shemlen. Sending her a wink, Tamlen dropped her hand and pulled back out his bow. With a flick of his head he was off in the direction of the noise, leaving her no choice but to follow._

* * *

She was jerked out of her thoughts by a hand on her arm, this time belonging to Zevran. He stood next to her, Sten and Alistair just behind, holding folds of linen. She knew what they wanted to do, and she was suddenly grateful for their presence. She just had to make herself get up, let go of the remnants of her oldest friend.

She stood abruptly, her hand blindly groping for Zevran's and gripping it tightly. She had to do it quickly, couldn't let herself think on it. They stood side by side, no one talking as Sten and Alistair wrapped the body. Finally, they picked it up and carried it further into the clearing. She followed behind, tugging Zevran with her as she noted her companions arranged in a circle around a deep hole, a small sapling sitting to the side, and the others of their camp farther off, though equally as quiet.

Gamen must have told them about Dalish burial rights, and a lump caught in her throat at the thought. She came to stand by the hole, watching as they slowly lowered the shroud wrapped figure into it.

She dropped Zevran's hand and went to kneel at the edge, looking into its shadowed depths. She started talking without realizing it.

"Falon'Din, _Lethanavir_ , friend to the dead. Guide his feet, calm his soul, and lead him to his rest. Keep him safe from the dread wolf, do not let him be taken." In her mind she continued while the others stood silently around her.

Mother, father, watch over him, guide him. He was a good friend to me.

* * *

_"Falon'Din? You want to mark yourself for Falon'Din?" It was said on a laugh, Tamlen's mouth working a few times before he continued. "Why?"_

_She gave a shrug and poked a stick into the fire. "I meditated on it, it seems right. My parents are in his care, Tamlen. It makes sense that I stay on his good side."_

_"Falon'Din" he said again, more seriously. "Well I suppose even the dead need all the help they can get."_

* * *

The memory came and went quickly, and she had a thought that her markings were becoming more and more appropriate the more people she lost or sent to their ends.

That thought, broke her.

The tears started slowly, gentle courses as she nodded to Sten to begin shoveling in dirt. By the time they were ready to place the tree it had developed into a steady weeping, and when it was done she was shaking with harsh sobs.

She knew she should not make such a display in front of the others. The ones who followed her, who relied on her to be strong, but she couldn't stop it. Couldn't stem the flow, wasn't sure she even wanted to.

She was vaguely away of being lifted into someone's arms, and carried into a tent. They settled, the arms shifting around her as she burrowed into a chest, legs curling into a lap. A hand brushed gently over her hair, and lips pressed to her ear, shaping meaningless, soothing sounds.

Zevran, she recognized the lilting voice, and the armor pressed under her cheek. She burrowed further in, trying, in vain, to disappear into him. He merely shifted and held her closer.

It was a long while before the crying stopped, and, exhausted, she fell into a fitful sleep.

* * *

**_Na melana sahlin. Emma ir abelas_: You're time is come. I am filled with sorrow.**

**_Ma'arlath_: I love you.  
**


	15. A Declaration

**Getting close to the end. Sad. I love these two.**

**I hope everyone enjoys!**

* * *

Zevran was avoiding her.

While he had spent the night with her after what had happened with Tamlen, he had said little to her since. Two days on the road, and they had barely exchanged a handful of words, the most of which were him becoming agitated and snapping out at her when she had asked if he was going to share her tent. It hurt, but she had little time to think on it. Little time to corner him and ask what was wrong.

She did not think it was because of Tamlen himself. She knew Alistair had passed the story on to the others, with her blessing, about who he was, and it was little different from Zevran's own confessions about his feelings for Rinna, though of course she could not be sure. No, she didn't know what it was, and it gnawed at her even while she spent hours of the trip setting up plans for when they reached Redcliff.

She took the extra time to talk to Alistair about his recent election to kingship, something they had let, until then, go unsaid. She knew he was still angry and unsure about the events, no matter that he agreed to them, and she worried that the strain it put between them would prove too much. Luckily, when she broached the subject, he had given her a friendly hug as they walked. "I'm actually fine with becoming king, but I have had time to come to terms with it." He smiled easily, and dropped his arm from her shoulder. "There might even be some good I can do... as for marrying Anora... Well, I understand why you think it is for the best, and who knows, maybe we will actually come to at least like each other. At least she seems to want what is best for Fereldan."

They had walked in silence awhile after that, each with their own thoughts, until he had looked at her, an odd gleam of humor in his eye. "You didn't suggest it just so I would stop pining after you did you?" She blinked at the question. It had honestly never occurred to her, and she had told him as much, earning another smile.

She was glad they had talked, making sure they were still on even ground. For all that she didn't want him romantically, Alistair had become her family, and the thought of him turning from her was almost too much to bear. Though of course she would still lose him to his politics and crown. At least there was still affection.

When they made camp for the night, only a day's ride outside of Redcliff, she found herself hunting out her assassin. She had a feeling that if she didn't talk to him before they reached the town then she would never get the chance, and that thought clenched her gut.

If he wanted to end things then she wanted to know.

If she was going to war she wanted to know who would be at her side.

She found him, talking with Leliana, and slipped up to hear the conversation.

"But I don't recall seeing any markings on your body."

"Ah, no, of course not. They are not in the places you have yet seen. I can show you, if you wish."

She saw Leliana blush brightly, and stifled a laugh. "Er... no, I think not. I am content enough looking at the markings on your face."

She came to stand to the side of the woman, her smile amused. "Are you sure? They are quite... impressive."

Leliana shook her head, her blush deepening at Lyna's words. Finally, she shifted her gaze up to the small elf, a clear attempt at changing the subject. "Is there something we can do for you, sister?" Lyna smiled at the term, one that Leliana had started using around the time they had returned to Denerim for the Landsmeet, and nodded her head toward Zevran. "I was needing to borrow our friend here, lethallan. If you don't mind." The words were for Leliana, but she looked at the other elf, a challenge in her eyes.

Leliana readily agreed, but Lyna kept her gaze on Zevran, daring him to turn her down. When he merely nodded and stood, she sent him a look of approval before tossing a goodbye to Leliana, and leading him out of camp.

They walk in silence for several minutes, a deliberate space between them, though she wasn't sure which of them put it there. When they made it to the edge of the river, she drew to a stop, Zevran nearly running into the back of her.

She searched out a place to sit, and settled for a fallen log that laid half in and out of the water. Taking a moment to make herself comfortable, she finally folded her arms across her chest, and turned her gaze the man still standing a few feet away from her.

She had thought over what she wanted to say to him, but all of it seemed petty, or needy, or simply over used. Instead she settled for the simple. "You seem different."

He merely stared at her a moment, his face carefully blank as he studied her, and she made a point to keep herself still, her posture relaxed, and her face passive. Finally, he let out a sigh and shifted his weight. "Are you sure you wish to talk about this? I really don't know what to say."

"Are you having second thoughts about us?" She noted the look of surprise that crossed his face, taking small comfort in the fact that at least that thought hadn't seemed to cross his mind.

"What? No, I... no, this..." He let out a huff of breath and dropped heavily onto a rock nearby, his hands clinching on his knees as he made a noise of disgust. "I am acting like a child... I apologize. Let me try to explain."

She merely continued to watch him as he stood again to pace the length from the rock to the river's edge. "An assassin... must learn to forget about sentiment. It is dangerous. You take your pleasure were you can, when life is good. To expect anything more would be reckless."

She thought briefly on his story about Rinna, but said nothing as he began gesturing with his words. "I thought it was the same between us, something to enjoy, a pleasant diversion and little more. And yet..." He trailed off and stopped his movement, turning his face to her, searching.

She could hear the blood rushing in her ears, and she took a moment to rub at her head before meeting his gaze. "Are you... are you saying you're in love with me?" Her tongue felt heavy and she had to check the urge to merely gape at him.

He threw up his hands in a gesture of defeat, and moved to sit on the log next to her, confusion evident on his face. "I don't know. How would you know such a thing? I grew up amongst those who sold the illusion of love, and then I was trained to make my heart cold in favor of the kill. Everything I have been taught says that what I feel is wrong. Yet..." He turned to look at her, and she forced herself to meet his gaze, not trusting the little ball of hope that had lodged itself where her heart should be. She didn't want to break whatever spell this was, but she nearly broke when he reached out to grip one of her hands with his. "I cannot help it. Since we started... since I first kissed you I have been nothing but confused. Do you understand me at all?"

She honestly thought, for a few seconds, about punching him. Did she understand? How could he even ask? Instead she turned her hand over in his, so they sat palm to palm, and offered a small smile. "I do, but I am no wiser about it then you are."

He returned the smile before looking down at their joined hands, fingers playing over hers lightly. "All I need to know is if there might be some future for us, some possibility of... I don't know what."

She felt the laughter catch in her chest, and she gave in to it, the sound bursting out as she launched herself into him, arms wrapping around his neck, and her cheek pressing to his. "I hope so."

His arms came around her, and she heard his own chuckle next to her ear before he buried his face into the curve of her neck. They sat like that for a long time, wrapped in the heat of each other, coming to terms with what had just been said. Finally, Zevran pulled back, a hand coming up to pass over her cheek before he reached into a pouch and produced the earring he had offered her so many days ago. "I... still have the earring. I would like to give it to you... as a token of affection. Will you take it?"

"Sounds like a proposal." She said it as a joke, humor lacing her words, but when she looked up to meet his eyes he was merely staring at her, a considering look on his face. "Not unless you wish it."

She blanched at the statement and gave a nervous laugh as he lifted her hand to drop the jewel into it. What did someone say to that? It wasn't really a proposal, but then she knew he wasn't one for coming straight out with things involving feelings. So she settled for simply beaming at him, then focused on the offered gift itself. "I'll take it."

His hand came back up to her face, and she felt his thumb play over her bottom lip. When she looked back to his face, he was smiling at her. "I am sorry for acting so strangely. I think I will be better now. Much better." He leaned in to kiss her, a gentle play of lips as his hand moved over her jaw.

Gripping the earring in her hand, she sighed into the kiss. The war would come, and there was no guarantee that either of them would survive it. She knew all this, had come to terms with it, but right now. Right now, at least, they had this.


	16. A Ritual

**I am playing through DA:O again, and decided to play a human mage and romance Alistair.  
**

**It just felt wrong.  
**

***Sigh*  
**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

The castle was strangely quiet as she stood outside the door to her room at the Redcliffe estate. Everyone getting sleep, preparing for the march they would start in the morning.

She didn't think she would be able to.

She had just left Alistair in the hall, both reserved after their meeting with Riordan. He had patted her shoulder awkwardly and told her to get some sleep, a strange look in his eye as he had started off toward his room at the other end of the hall. She had wanted to stop him, talk to him. Tell him not to worry, that she would take the final step if Riordan fell. As cynical as it was to think it, and as much as others might argue, she was expendable.

The king of Fereldan wasn't.

Not that that would make him feel any better. If anything, it would make him feel worse.

No best not to say it, then he couldn't talk her out of it, or try to stop her.

Of course, now she was staring at a door, unable to make her feet take her inside.

Coward.

How was she suppose to face Zevran? How was she suppose to lay beside him tonight, knowing it might be their last together.

In death, sacrifice. Indeed.

Creators, she never wanted this.

Steeling herself, she pushed the door open and shuffled her way inside, coming to a stop as she realized that it wasn't Zevran standing by the fire.

"Morrigan?"

The witch turned to glance over her shoulder, before looking back at the fire. "Do not be alarmed. It is only I."

"Is everything alright?" She turned to close the door behind her, thinking it might be necessary. Curiosity about where Zevran was, a back thought in her mind.

"I am well. 'Tis you who are in danger." When Lyna didn't answer she merely continued on. "I have a plan you see. A way out. The loop in your hole." As she finished the thought she turned to look at Lyna, her expression remote. "I know what happens when the archdemon dies. I know a Grey Warden must be sacrificed, and the sacrifice could be you." She faltered only a moment. "I have come to tell you this need not be."

Lyna's thoughts raced to catch up with what Morrigan had just said. "And...wait... How do you know about this?"

Morrigan managed a smirk, one easy read as 'really?'. "I know a great many things. How I know is not quite as important as what I am offering you, however. I offer a way out. A way out for all the Grey Wardens, that there need be no sacrifice. A ritual... preformed on the eve of battle, in the dark of night."

It sounded ominous, but Lyna held her tongue on that thought. "Just what sort of ritual is this?"

"It is old magic, from a time before the Circle of Magi was created." She gave a shrug as she continued. "Some might call it blood magic, but that is just a name. There is far more to fear in this world than names."

She trusted her. Creators knew she trusted Morrigan with her life, but magic... could be uncertain. "Where did you get it?"

She shrugged again. "From Flemeth, of course. I have known about it for some time."

Lyna studied her a moment, her mind going back to an old conversation with Alistair. He had thought that Flemeth might have sent Morrigan with them for reasons they didn't know.

It seemed he was right.

"So you knew about the sacrifice before Riordan told us?" And didn't tell me, was the unfinished response.

Morrigan nodded, her mask breaking a moment to show what Lyna thought seemed like guilt. "I did. Would you have believed me if I had been the one to tell you? I have my doubts."

Lyna didn't, but she understood the reasoning. "Then tell me more."

Morrigan moved to sit on the chest by the bed, taking a deep breath before continuing. "What I purpose is this: convince Alistair to lay with me. Here, tonight. And from that ritual a child shall be conceived within me."

Lyna almost choked. She was sure at least that she had lost her breath. Morrigan wanted to sleep with Alistair? She hated him. Lyna almost said as much, but Morrigan was still talking. "The child shall bear the taint, and when the archdemon is slain, its essence will seek the child like a beacon. At this early stage, the child can absorb that essence and not perish. The archdemon is still destroyed, with no Grey Warden dying in the process."

"Wait... So... The child would become a darkspawn?"

Morrigan gave a soft laugh. "Not at all. It would become something different: a child born with the soul of an Old God. But... After this is done, you allow me to walk away... and you do not follow. Ever. The child will be mine to raise as I wish."

A frown worked over Lyna's face, and she took a moment to settle next to Morrigan on the chest, her knees coming up to rest under her chin. "How do you even know this will work?"

"This is what my mother intended when she sent me with you. She was the one who first gave me this ritual, and told me of what I was meant to do."

Duty. Lyna understood it well.

"This does not surprise you does it? Did you not wonder why Flemeth saved your life, why she aided you? This is why." She waved a hand as Lyna opened her mouth to reply. "What is important is that I am offering it to you now. It will work, and it will save your life." Lyna almost believed the conviction in her voice.

She couldn't help a small laugh. "You actually think Alistair will agree to this?"

Morrigan shrugged. "I believe you could convince him to do just about anything you wanted to."

She paused a moment before turning to look at Lyna, her eyes betraying concern. "Consider what the alternative would be. Do you think Alistair will fail to do his duty as the future king and save his country? And if you take the blow instead..." She trailed off a moment then added the one thing that they both knew could possible convince her. "Zevran loses the woman he loves. How do you think he would feel about that?"

She didn't have an answer to that. Not a good one at least. The last time he had lost a woman he cared for he went off to get himself killed.

She couldn't bear to think of that.

"I think you have many reasons to convince Alistair, and not just for your own good. I think you should consider them carefully... Besides, you are the closest thing to a friend I have ever had." Morrigan looked away again, visibly uncomfortable as she continued to speak. "I would not see you die."

Lyna merely stared at Morrigan for a few moments, surprised that she would admit such a thing. She reached out to rest a hand on her friend's, and found her voice. "Can you tell me at least some things about the child?"

Morrigan merely nodded, her eyes still averted. "Of course."

"It won't be hurt will it?"

She received a humorless laugh in response. "Considering that after one night it could hardly be considered a child... no, it will not be hurt. It will be changed. I am seeking the soul of the Old God, not the dark forces that corrupted it." She slipped her hand out from under Lyna's and stood to walk to the fire. "Some things are worth preserving in this world."

"You're going to raise it alone?"

"Yes."

"Alistair will want to see it."

Morrigan glanced back, a smirk on her face. "I have no doubt he many, but he will not. That's all I ask in return."

Lyna wasn't convinced that it would be so easy, but put the thought aside. "Why Alistair, why not Riordan?"

The smirk remained, and Morrigan turned to face her more fully, her hands coming up a moment before dropping back to her side. "Even if I thought Riordan could be convinced, he is unsuitable. I need one who has not been tainted for long... It must be Alistair, unless you know of a way to conceive a child with another woman, and it must be tonight."

Lyna looked over to the fire, the conversation playing over in her mind. "Alright."

"A wise decision." Morrigan's tone was brisk, suddenly businesslike in its formality. "I'll stay here while you go speak with Alistair."

Lyna gave a nod and headed to the door. As she pulled it open and stepped out, Morrigan's voice drifted after her. "I urge you to be convincing."

* * *

Lyna watched as Alistair and Morrigan headed down the hall to his room, the former's shoulders tense and hunched forward. It had taken over an hour to convince Alistair to agree to the plan, and she was not proud of herself for her final argument.

She had told him in no uncertain terms that she would be making the final blow if Riordan fell, and he had best consider what her life was worth. She had played on his feelings for her, and offered a long kiss in return for his agreement.

At least he had enjoyed that part.

She didn't know how long she stood in the doorway, staring down the hallway, her thoughts far away, but she didn't move till an arm slipped around her waist, and a mouth pressed to her ear. She jumped, and was rewarded with a soft laugh. "So far away, _mi amor_, where did you go?"

She huffed out a breathe, and turned to nuzzle into Zevran's neck. "You don't want to know."

"I thought you would be asleep by now, my Warden. You have an army to lead tomorrow, no?"

She gave a nod, and let him pull her into the room, closing the door behind them. She thought, for a moment of telling him everything. About the sacrifice, about Morrigan's ritual, about all of her worries. Looking at him though, she couldn't. She knew Morrigan thought that it would work, but what if it didn't, what if everything ended wrong? She didn't want to color the rest of the night with that.

Instead, she folded herself into him, her lips pressing into his almost desperately. She wanted to forget, even for a little while, even if it didn't make anything end better.

And for a night, she did.


	17. A Death

**Hmm, there will be one... mmmmaaaaayyyybbbbeeee two more chapters after this. Can't decide if I am going to do an epilogue yet, or if I will just add it to the story I am planning after "I Found You" is done. Just depends on what kind of note I want to leave it on. ;)**

**Either way, I hope you all enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

The sky was on fire. She stood, head tilted up, hands loose at her sides as she watched the flames dance across the city, licking at the building, while smoke curling up to cover the stars.

It would have been magnificent if she hadn't been surrounded by death.

She drew in a breath and glanced to either side, taking in her companions as they went about getting ready for the battle ahead. They had fought their way into the city, and now stood, defending the gate, while they prepared to storm the Keep.

If only she could take them all.

She would have been alright if Riordan had told her they would all be going to face the archdemon, but he had not. Instead he had told her that she needed a small party, only three besides herself.

With those odds she would rather go on her own.

If only she wasn't unsure of her rate of success.

She had agreed to take Alistair, despite him being king. He would be needed, should she and Riordan fall, since only Grey Wardens could give the finally blow. She had also agreed on Wynne because of her healing, and her argument that her life was less needed then the others, since she was living on borrowed time anyway.

Lyna could not fault the reasoning.

Finally, she had chosen Morrigan, though she did not like it. She was worried that she might fall, and their prevention would be for naught, but both were unsure how close Morrigan needed to be to the archdemon, and wanted to take no chances.

That had left several goodbyes to say, several gazes to meet that asked, silently, if they were unworthy to stand at her side.

She had cajoled, and shook hands, and exchanged hugs, and not a few misty eyes before it was all done.

There was only one she was avoiding.

She looked back up at the city sky line, ignoring, for just a moment, the world around her, and pretended not to notice the shadow that appeared to her side. The tension that emanated from it was almost overwhelming in its intensity, and she steeled herself for the meeting.

Turning, she met his brandy gaze, her own blue eyes steady, and balked at the emotion she saw. Anger she could handle. Anger or annoyance, or even nothing, but not this. Not what was staring back at her.

Hurt.

She broke eye contact first, folding her arms over her chest in a defensive gesture.

"So... You do not wish me to stand by you, in the end?" His voice was tight, strained with strictly held emotions. The words caused her to wince and jerk her head up, already shaking it in denial. Of course that wasn't it. There was no one she wanted there more, but she couldn't risk him. Not him. Not when he had his whole life left, and finally the ability to live it free, even if she wasn't there to share it.

Her throat hurt from the strain of forming the words. Her voice thick with emotion that she schooled from her face. "I don't want to put you in that kind of danger..."

He gave a humorless laugh and looked off past her, his arms folding to mirror her own. "Oh, now you are worried about my health." She merely shrugged, unable to voice what she meant in a way that wouldn't sound unbelievably condescending. He continued to look to the side, shifted from foot to foot a moment, the silence between them overwhelming.

Finally, he looked back at her, the hurt still evident in his eyes, though better controlled, as was his voice. "In truth, for the chance to be by your side, I would storm the Dark City itself." He lifted a hand and took her chin to turn her face back to him. His lips quirked just slightly into the ghost of a smile. "Never doubt it."

They stared at each other another moment before she heard Alistair shouting that it was time to move out. Breaking away from his grip she offered a jerky nod before turning to make her way to the path that lead further into the city.

She had just reached her small group, had pulled out her bow, when she cursed and threw it to the ground. Turning on her heels, she pelted back to where he still stood, alone, in the middle of a field of death. She had just enough time to note the surprise on his face before she jumped at him, arms entwining around his neck, and her cheek coming to rest against his.

She felt his arms come hard around her, and pressed her lips to his ear. "No matter what happens... I love you. _Ar tu na'lath uth. Abelas. Dareth, emma vhenan._" She slipped into the elvish without thought, and tightened her arms.

They stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity, and yet was over in the space of a moment. Zevran loosened his arms, and moved his hands to grip her waist and set her away. Raising a hand, he used his fingers to brush at the corner of her eye, catching the tear there before it could fall. "Cruel to the very end." He murmured under his breath, then forced a tilted smile. "What does it mean?"

She shook her head, and returned the smile with one equally as weak. "I'll tell you when this is over."

Reaching up to grip his shoulders, she strained up to press a quick kiss to his lips, then dropped and turned away.

She moved to her bow, forcing her mind to clear as she bent to pick it up. Testing the string, she pushed all thoughts from her mind besides what lay before her.

Signaling to the others, they moved out of the city entrance. She didn't look back.

* * *

They all watched as the dragon wheeled past them, then stumbled over each other to move out of the way as the bridge crumbled beneath their feet. Lyna cursed and shoved, unceremoniously, at Morrigan, tumbling them both onto the street as Alistair and Wynne drew up behind them. Lyna scrambled up and moved back out into the open air so she could watch as the creature disappeared around a corner, it's roar still echoing in her head. She cursed again and turned back to the others, her voice pitching up over the noise.

"Move."

* * *

They all saw Riordan fall, They had waited, breathes held as they watched him cling to the side of the archdemon, sword stabbing ineffectually. When he had finally slipped, Lyna heard the coarse cry loose from one of the mages behind her, and turned her head away before he hit the ground.

She stared down at the cobblestone of the street, ignoring the shifting of her companions around her. So there it was. Riordan was dead. That left her, so long as she stayed alive long enough. She gave a brief thought to the others still back at the city gate. She had promised all of them she would be back. She only wished she was sure she could keep the promise.

Shutting it from her mind again, she looked up to where Alistair stood, staring at her uncertainly. She sent him a wink and shouldered her bow. "Well, time to storm the fort I suppose."

He didn't seem amused.

* * *

The archdemon was screaming. It ripped through her, causing her to drop her bow and grip her ears, eyes squeezing shut. After a moment she forced her eyes open and sought it out, noting where it stumbled and crashed to the ground, overwhelmed by the flury of attacks launched at it. She noticed the opportunity and forced her legs to move. One step after another, slowly gaining speed as she advanced on the beast.

Seeing a sword sticking out of one of the fallen fighters she gripped it, and pulled, not slowing her growing momentum. She ignored the yell from Alistair, knowing that he would try and stop her. Try and take the blow himself. She also knew that Wynne and Morrigan would stop him, and that he could not catch up to her at that distance anyway, not with all the plate he wore.

She advanced on the struggling creature, watching for the opening she needed. She skidded just short of a pile of rubble, searching for the best path. Finally, she picked the shortest one. Breaking into a full run, she moved up the rubble pile, and launched herself from it. She grasped and scrambled at the side of its head, the scales rough under her palms, jagged edges cutting into her flesh. She finally managed to pull herself up and pulled the sword from its precarious place in her belt. Lifting her arms, she whispered a prayer to the Creators and slammed the point down into the archdemon's neck.

Light shot up around her. She pulled the sword out and shoved it down again, twisting the pommel as she did so. The light overwhelmed her, ripped through her, threatened to pull her apart. She couldn't see anything but it, couldn't hear anything but the rush of wind around her. She forced herself to hang on to the sword, twisting it again. She thought she might be screaming. Soundlessly. The noise being pulled from her even as her throat worked to produce it.

She prayed to Falon'din, desperate thoughts that crowded her mind, even as she felt herself lose consciousness. Maybe they had been wrong, maybe it wasn't the soul that killed the Grey Wardens maybe it was the death itself.

Finally, blessedly, the world went dark.

* * *

_Ar tu na'lath uth. Abelas. Dareth, emma vhenan_ - I will love you forever. I'm sorry. Be safe, my heart.


	18. An Ending

**Whelp, we have reached the end. I decided to go with the happy one, the other chapter would do better in a different story anyway. Thanks to everyone who has read, and favorited, or followed, or commented. I appreciate you all, and you make Zan all warm and fuzzy on the inside.**

**I hope you enjoy**!

* * *

She hurt in her everywhere. She couldn't think of a better way to say it.

Her thoughts swam through her head in a tangled stream, words and voice jumbling with them. She could remember glimpses of things. Vague memories of people's voices around her, and faces swimming in and out of her vision. She thought perhaps they had been worried, panic laced with soothing assurances.

And now she hurt. Creators she hurt.

She supposed it meant she wasn't dead, unless Fin'Harel truly had caught her. She tried to open her eyes, and even the thought of it causing a bolt of pain through her head. She finally managed it, slowly, hours seeming to pass before a crack of light appeared in her gaze. Another long moment passed before she could make out fuzzy shapes.

She stayed like that for a long time, half aware of movement around her, but unable to acknowledge it. Her tongue hurt to move, her jaw creaked at the thought, her arms and legs were leaden, every point of contact that they made with the surface under her an aching throb.

She had been broken apart, she remembered that, and it seemed she was just barely back together.

Finally, she managed to open her eyes more, the things around her taking more distinctive forms, and sharpening. She was in a room, the dark fabric above her head a sign that she was in a bed. She tested her hand slowly, rubbing her fingers across the mattress she was currently sprawled on. It was soft, though that didn't seem to help. She turned her head slightly, a slow movement that took longer than she liked. There was a fire place to the side of her, the flames burning low, and a person moved in front of them, their shape wavering indistinctly against the light.

She must have made a sound because the figure turned and made its way to the bedside. She followed the movement with her eyes, though kept her head still, a concession to the pain. The person became clearer when it dropped gently on to the bed, though she grunted uncomfortably at the movement it brought.

Zevran.

She watched as he leaned over her, a cheeky smile formed on his lips, as he studied her. "Ah, well, Oghren will be annoyed that he lost the bet. He had you unconscious for another three days." She let out a whoosh of breath that hinted at a laugh, and slowly rolled her head straight again.

Zevran reached up and pushed the strands of hair away that had slid into her eyes, still smiling. "And now that you have done me the great favor of winning me three sovereigns, I insist you go back to sleep. You look like death warmed over, and probably feel like it, yes?"

She stared up at him, drank in the look of him. Brandy eyes, crinkled around the edges because of his smile. Blonde hair tied neatly back in braids. White teeth glowing against his swarthy skin. Black tattoos running down the length of his face.

She had worried she might never see him again, and it was overwhelming that she could.

Tears leaked out from the corners of her eyes as she scrunched them closed, and she felt his hand brush them away, whispering soothing murmurs as he did so.

She fought to make her lips move, her tongue a dead thing in her mouth. She made some sound, and shook her head, once, when he made a shushing noise. She wanted to say it. She needed to.

She felt her mouth form the words, her lips and tongue garbing them, her throat screaming as sound passed it. It took several tries, and she opened her eyes again when she finally managed to say something intelligable. "Ar... tu... na'lath uth." The words were thick and slurred, run together in whispered gasps, and her voice was gravely, creaking with disuse. "Abe... Abelas. D'Dareth. " She gasped out a breath, tired even from this, her head on fire. Creators even her teeth hurt. "Emma vhenan."

It was getting easier, though she felt her consciousness waver, black tinting the edges of her vision. She pushed past it, and the pain, finishing in a rush. "I'll love you for'forever. I'm sorry. Be...safe, my heart."

He simply looked at her, his eyes shadowed in the dark.

"Pr...promised I'd tell you."

She heard him laugh, a light sound, even as he traced a finger down her cheek. "So you did."

The black was overwhelming, the aches dulling into numbness as her vision faded. It sucked her down, and she let it without fight.

* * *

Six weeks. Six weeks of bed rest, and hobbling around as if she might fall apart at the smallest gust of wind. She bore it well, enjoying the rest she got, and the pampering. They were things she was not use to, things she doubted she would have again anytime in the near future. Her companion took turns keeping her company, though Zevran was almost always there, and Alistair was not, locked as he was in the politics to which she had strapped him. She missed having him around, though she had little time to worry about it.

She also missed Morrigan. She knew that she had planned to leave right after the fight, they had discussed it, said their goodbyes. The reality of it was still hard though. She missed her grousing, and her sarcasm. She even missed her and Alistair's bickering.

She had promised she would let her leave, wouldn't search for her. It poked at her, a promise she never should have made, but she would stick to it, as long as she could at least.

So she did as she needed, helping the others with their plans for the future, making promises, and encouraging goals. They would all go their own way, she knew that, and tried to not think on the sense of loss that formed in her chest. They had become her clan, not taking the place of the one she lost, but helping to heal the hole left. She would miss them, and hope that perhaps they would miss her, at least a little, as well.

* * *

She stood in front of a mirror, scowling at the dress Leliana had put her in. She hated it. Hated the lace and silk, and high necked collar. She longed briefly for her gear, well worn and comfortable, or at the very least one of the dresses like they wore in the clan, material soft with age, and loose fitting besides the girdle. Her hands itched for her weapons, and she made a face at the dog in the corner, happily chewing on a bone, and ignoring her unease. No help on that front it seemed.

She shuffled around a bit more, putting off leaving, when the door flew open, and Zevran entered with a wide smile, and sweeping bow when he saw her. "My dear Warden, it seems we are required down in the throne room." She merely looked at him, wondering if she could get away with being stubborn.

Noting the look on her face, he chuckled and stepped forward, bringing up a hand to tug lightly at the earring she had strung around her neck. "If you are thinking of running, cariño, I wouldn't suggest it. They might not take kindly to their hero slinking off."

"If I thought I could get away with it, I would leave this moment." She stepped into him, tucking her head under his chin, and worked at making her voice small. "You could probably get me out though. You're so clever about such things."

She felt his chest rumble with his laugh as he wrapped his arms around her waist. "I won't lie, I will be relieved when all this pomp and ceremony is done. Such events are opportunities for assassins after all. Not that it wouldn't be a welcome break after all this resting." She smiled into his chest, and burrowed closer. "You don't have to stay and endure such hardship you know."

"And leave you to face the unwashed masses alone? Perish the thought!" He said it in mock outrage, and she leaned back to grin at him.

"No, you caught me, and now you're stuck with me, I'm afraid. Sad, I know, but we'll manage somehow." She merely stuck her tongue out at him, earning another laugh.

"So does that mean you will help me sneak out?"

"No, I think I will greatly enjoy watching you be paraded about in front of everyone."

She grumbled, and he laughed more.

"You know," he lifted a hand to toy with the ends of her hair where it hung loose against her shoulders, "it occurs to me that staying in one place is only going to invite the Crows to find me that much sooner. While that could be fun... it could also get complicated."

"Complicated." She repeated the word, a brow raised as she looked up at him, curious.

"Yes, complicated. You have said before that you thought you might stay here for awhile. Is that true?"

She gave a shrug and lifted a hand to poke at the embroidery on his tunic. "Maybe. Anything could happen, I suppose."

"Hmm, well it seems I have grown rather fond of you." He winced and chuckled when she jabbed at his ribs, then continued. "So, I was wondering if you would be in favor of me staying with you?"

"Probably a good idea. I would hate to have to hunt you down."

They smiled at each other a moment before he ducked his head to give her a long kiss, hands playing loosely through her hair. It grew heated, weeks of celibacy motivating their actions, and when Zevran pulled back it was on a laughing moan. "Ah, cariño, you are a shrewd negotiator, yes? But, I have given my word that I will deliver you to your adoring public."

Finally breaking away, he stepped back and took her hand, pulling her towards the door. "So you want to keep me around? Not that I can blame you, I am rather awesome. I suppose I will just have to let the Crows bring it on." She smiled at the words and let herself be dragged in his wake, his voice drifting over his shoulder. "I can mock them while you crush their skulls."

"I don't think I have ever crushed a skull."

He made a tsking sound and continued through the door and into the hallway. "Since I am sticking around we can discuss the details of their maiming later, you shouldn't be so quick to disregard different ways of accomplishing it."

They started down the stairs together, him laughingly mocking her when she tripped on the hem of her dress, and her good-naturedly threatening all manner of vile retribution in return. Through it all they kept their hands linked, their heads tilted towards each other. When they made it to the throne room doors, he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry, I'll make sure no one gets a clear shot... Not without paying me a great deal of coin, anyhow."

"Of course." She replied somberly. She dropped his hand and sent him a wink, taking a moment to straighten and smooth her gown. Taking a breath, she gave him a nod, and they stepped through the door together.


End file.
